Redefining a Firestarter
by VJ Riddle
Summary: Solaris, True Born Son of Sun, has Ascended. The work has just begun. Time to rediscover the Old Ways, craft new ones and see if an old but new Firestarting Order will emerge from the ashes. Thankfully, one Ancar of Hardorn has obligingly offered plenty of fuel for rebuilding their reputation as protectors of the innocent, rather than burners of children. Let us set them on fire!
1. Summons

"Good service," Anur said quietly to Kir as the temple failed to clear. A few remained behind to pray, but for the most part people just didn't want to go back into the bitter snowy cold. No storm, unusually enough, but still freezing and snow covered.

Kir had a wondering sort of gleam in his eye as he looked at the altar, the Ever-Burning flame crackling cheerfully. "I didn't light it," he murmured.

Anur blinked, "What?"

"I didn't light it," Kir repeated, keeping his voice down but his entire expression had lit up at this point, a smile growing across his face, "Anur, _I didn't light it_!"

_:No one lit the fires this year,:_ an unfamiliar voice echoed in their thoughts, everyone in the temple falling silent immediately and turning to Anur, who held up his hands and said, "Not me!"

A warm chuckle, and the fire flared, a massive cat leaping down from the sun-drenched flames and settling at the base of the altar, tail wrapped around his paws. Even if Anur hadn't ever seen Kir's Cat of Fire, had never been shown rough sketches done by the twins, he would have somehow known what this Cat was.

_:I am Hansa.:_

As one, everyone in the room kneeled; Anur still thought that his original idea as to what a Firecat was would be more awe inspiring though.

_:No, no, my kin. Do not kneel to me. I am no Son of Sun – and even she, long may she shine, would refuse your gestures. It is I who should kneel to you, faithful followers of the One God, who have shone so brightly. Please, rise.:_

The Cat waited until they'd all regained their feet before continuing, _:I come bearing glad tidings. Solaris has Ascended, a True Born Son of the Sun has Risen, long may she shine. And We thank every one of you and yours for your faithful service towards this glorious day.:_

A tap of his paw on the ground and in a curl of flame, a seal and ribbon bedecked scroll appeared on the altar, the Cat looking over to Kir with gleaming blue eyes and he said, _:I look forward to seeing you once more in Sunhame, brother.:_

And the Firecat vanished in a mote of sunlight.

Everyone was silent as Kir took the few slow steps back to the altar, taking the scroll and cracking the seal, reading the message quickly before hesitantly relaying, "I am to report to Sunhame the moment the roads clear sufficiently, and will likely remain there. A replacement will be sent."

At last, there was chaos.

***===***pagebreak***===***

Captain Ulrich had, with assistance from Sergeant Greich's bellow and stern glare, quickly settled the majority of the shouting and told the unit that matters were going to be discussed _calmly_ by a small group and then they would be informed of the decision. The small group wound up being the usual informal council, consisting of the three initial conspiring Sunsguard officers and Kir and Anur, all convening in the sacristy where they found seats on benches or perched on tables, Kir pacing the length of the room with the summons left open next to Anur.

"I don't like the idea of a replacement," Greich said finally, clearly saying what the other two had struggled with wording and definitely relaying the majority of the sentiments Kir had managed to pick out from the sudden explosion of noise. "To be perfectly honest, the boys love you, Father Kir and anyone sent to take your place will face one hell of a time, picked out by the new Son of Sun, long my she shine – and _that_ phrase will take getting used to, let me say – or not."

"I don't like the idea of leaving," Kir confessed, interlacing his hands in the small of his back to keep them from trembling as he walked, "There have been… veiled hints, in the letters, that I may be called to Sunhame, but to be there permanently…"

"What if you were given an acolyte?" Anur suggested, the four Karsites turning to him with raised eyebrows and he shrugged, "You don't want Kir to go, but quite frankly, he has to. If we're going to get this Valdemar alliance above board, if we're going to get the Firestarting Order reformed, Kir needs to be in the center of it. I don't want to go either, really, as much as Sunhame is supposed to be beautiful, I was quite happy as a border-post Herald because it let me avoid court politics, and this is even worse because religion is involved. And worse than _that,_ it's a religious revolution. An acolyte means Kir's not really _replaced_, that he still has a place here, is the chaplain, but lets him leave without depriving you of the services of a priest."

"So it would essentially be what we do now, except with longer absences and someone to conduct services while he is away," Ulrich mused, "I can sell that to the men, and can accept it as a solution, so long as there is the understanding that Father Kir's _home_ is with us, so long as he wishes it."

Kir felt his throat close up at that and blinked rapidly to avoid going misty-eyed – thankfully, the others allowed him a moment to regain his composure. To think, in a mere five years he had gone from waiting for a knife in the back to having them fight to keep him. The captain had hit the nail on the head, he truly considered the 62nd his home, had for almost his entire service though only relatively recently had it truly become a _home_ and not just a home-base. He didn't want to lose that, revolution in Sunhame or no.

"I would be honored to remain chaplain for the 62nd," he managed to say.

"Don't be so down, everybody," Greich chimed in dryly, "We are all, after all, likely to be on the forefront of Valdemar-Karse relations. We're somewhat experts on it now. And there's still Hardorn to deal with, on top of all this revolutionary nonsense."

Leave it to the sergeant to brush off years of impatient struggle after centuries of oppressive rulership as simple nonsense, Kir thought wryly, the chuckles circling the room suggesting he wasn't alone in his observation.

"Now here's the real question," Janner finally spoke, "How are we going to convince the men not to march on Sunhame and demand their priest back? They'd at least try it before it occurred to one of the hotheads that maybe marching on a Son of Sun with a Firecat on call is a bad idea. We're not exactly used to miracles being an obstacle, or being a consideration at all for that matter, Father Kir's flames aside."

"There is nothing miraculous about my flames," Kir refuted immediately, shying from the memory of the false Cat of Fire and the true miracle he had faked. He had learned his lesson, had _asked for help_ and had received it. He had to let it go.

"As for the actual question," Anur smirked, "That's easy. Tell them Kir's not going to be replaced, he's just needed in Sunhame to glare at people when they argue overmuch and once the idiots get in line he'll be back until they forget or he needs to set something on fire and heads out again. In the meantime, they get to break in the new Sunpriest to the idea that Valdemarans aren't all that bad, and the Sunsguard don't need to kowtow to a priest that throws his weight around needlessly."

Greich started chuckling, "Tell them they're the gauntlet! Oh they'll love that – especially since I made them lighten up on Nichter a moon or so ago."

Kir carefully ignored that last, instead saying, "I don't think we'd be sent a particularly troublesome rep – acolyte," he corrected, seeing the sharp glares sent his way, "So there won't be any need for truly harsh measures, but…" here his lips twitched, "I suppose the shock factor alone will be rather amusing."

"I'm sure one of the lads has decent artistic ability," Greich smirked, "Perhaps we'll get a sketch for posterity."

"It's agreed then?" Ulrich spoke after their amusement subsided, "Father Kir answers the summons on the understanding that there will be no replacement until he wishes it so, only an acolyte to serve as basic chaplain during his absences? And potentially a clause saying that we are only sent those that have a decent entertainment value?"

"I think we'll cut the last clause in official communications," Kir replied dryly, feeling a surge of affection for this ridiculous unit he had somehow come to call his own. Even as Janner disparaged the other men of the unit as hotheads who would march on Sunhame without a thought to the consequences, the fact that these three even dared to consider questioning an edict of Sunhame, dared to _put conditions_ on their compliance with an edict of Sunhame – it was a step in a direction he wasn't entirely certain Solaris had intended for this revolution of hers to go.

But it was a step he was so very, very proud they had made.

Because it was one thing, to profess unthinking obedience, unquestioning loyalty, to one's God, to one's ideals. It was another thing entirely to profess unthinking obedience and unquestioning loyalty to another person, even a person chosen and favored by that same God, following similar ideals. Somehow these three, this whole blessed _unit_, had come to realize that distinction, to understand that fine line and to realize that it was their _duty_, their _responsibility_, to ensure that those in power, those placed into power by the will of their God, did not forget that though they had the blessing, they did not have absolute power. Only one Being had that, and no matter how exalted, no human was equal to Him.

And he had somehow become very, very distracted from the fact that they were in the middle of trying to actually come to a decision.

"I concur, and will write it out with appropriate wording," Greich supplied, "I've written enough of the blasted formal notices to know the language, and it will probably be better received coming from a member of the unit rather than Father Kir himself."

"And then we two will sign it," Janner inclined his head towards the Captain, "That should be sufficient to at least bring notice to the fact that we're not letting Father Kir go so easily."

"Should it be necessary, I'm sure every man in the unit would sign the same thing," Ulrich agreed, a small smile on his face, "Now, let's go sell this to them. And get you both some better armor, your current stuff is a little worn. Can't have two of our own representing us in Sunhame with shoddy armor!"

"Can't have two of our own _in Sunhame_ with shoddy armor," Greich snorted, heading for the door, "Place was a vipers nest, now they've gone and kicked it full of holes and hornets – it's going to be ugly."

"Yes, this is definitely making me want to go," Anur groaned, "Can I pass?"

"I think not," Kir replied crisply, clapping his friend on the shoulder, "I have plans for you as a human shield."


	2. A City in the Sun

"It is difficult to describe how much I utterly loathe this city," Kir said finally, the two of them having been sitting on horseback a distance from the bounds of Sunhame for near a mark now. Anur sat up from where he'd draped himself over his saddle-bags, asking, "Does that mean we're actually going in now?"

"Maybe if we stand here long enough it will eventually vanish?" Kir asked doubtfully, staring at the ribbon and seal bedecked summons in his hand.

"You realize you're hoping for an entire city, filled with people _and Solaris_ to just disappear, right?" Anur asked dryly. This was actually rather entertaining – with the years they'd had traipsing all across Karse, he'd never actually seen the capital city; just heard volumes about its many failings. He'd been treated to a repeat of the entire rant in the days it took them to travel here, longer than usual since they hadn't actually waited for the melt to happen entirely and had instead taken off a week after Midwinter. Kir apparently couldn't live with the anticipation any longer.

"Well at the least the temple could be to one _side_ so we don't have to go through the entire blasted city to _get_ to it," Kir retorted, exasperated, "How many times have we been glared at on the road already? And that's with small villages and travelers chapels, we enter that mess and we'll be mobbed! I don't like mobs, Anur! And I can't even set them on fire!"

"Woah, woah, calm down," Anur said worriedly, Aelius side-stepping so he could rest a hand on his friend's shoulder, "This is new."

Kir tensed, before sighing heavily, slumping slightly in his saddle, "Not really," he said ruefully, "Just… we were feared, before, Anur. Now that the reason for fearing us has been doused – they'll remember what we took, what we did. Fear turns to hate very, very easily."

"You've been thinking about this," he replied, sitting back in the saddle and crossing his arms, staring at the city thoughtfully.

"I've had to," Kir grimaced, "If I'm not mistaken, the reason for this summons is for me to bring the remainder of the Firestarting Order to heel. I don't doubt at least some of them are utterly terrified and responding violently to it. Terror isn't something people in their position would be used to."

"Fantastic," Anur muttered.

"Well," he finally said, "What if we just presented ourselves as Sunsguard, summoned to Sunhame for some incomprehensible reason? I ditch the sash, you leave the robes – I'll be the officer since you don't have any rank insignia, and that should get us through the worst of it."

Kir blinked, wondering for a moment why that hadn't occurred to him before nodding, "Agreed," he said, passing the summons off to Anur and dismounting so he could remove all indications of his ordination. He hesitated over his witch-horse Sun in Glory, before leaving it and instead adjusting his armored vest to cover it. Fixing his flame colored scarf from Anna, he folded up his robes and left the bundle loosely secured to the top of his packs, just in case.

"Now being the officer in charge is going to be strange," Anur mused, eyeing the summons in his hand and Kir smirked at him before the Herald finally shrugged and said, "Well, we've stalled long enough, let's get going."

Somehow, their plans never seemed to quite work out, Kir thought ruefully a mere half-mark later. They had reached the gates easily enough and had only needed to flash the seal of the Son of Sun to be sent along through the city. It wasn't until they got to the entrance to the Temple itself that they'd be asked to present their orders fully, so if they'd managed to make it there without their cover as regular Sunsguard being blown, it all would have gone according to Anur's simplistically brilliant plan.

But partway through the craftsman's ring, they heard a commotion and Kir heard the word 'Firestarter'. The word, and the tone, one of an angry eagerness, meant they had followed the sounds until they hit the backs of a small crowd, unable to truly hear or see what was going on in the middle, but that eager anger he'd heard was only amplified, meaning whatever was going on, he didn't particularly care for it.

"Excuse me," he asked a young woman, tapping her on the shoulder, "But could you tell us what is going on?"

"A Firestarter came through the quarter," she said, eyeing his Sunsguard uniform with an appreciative gleam in her eye.

Perhaps not wearing his robes hadn't been such a good idea?

"A Firestarter? Now?" Anur jumped in, careful to sound incredulous, "You would think they'd have the sense to stay away until the Son of Sun sorts them all out."

"Yes well, it seems some people have decided to sort this one out themselves," Kir said dryly, the young woman nodding and saying, "There have been grumbles for a few days now –"

Anything further she was going to say was interrupted by Anur's cry. He had jumped up into the saddle to try and get a better view, and it hadn't taken long for him to identify the Firestarter in question.

"It's Rodri!"

Kir's world tinged red. Throwing himself into Riva's saddle, the gelding surged forward with Aelius, people somehow parting before them, but not particularly gently.

"_Enough!"_ he roared, black-trimmed red settling around his shoulders even as Riva launched over the heads of the innermost ring of the mob. He jumped out of the saddle, lashing out with a burst of flame to keep them back and feeling a furious snarl erupt from his throat. Anur and Aelius settled in behind him, Anur quickly dismounting and heading to Rodri, who had pressed himself up against a building's brick wall while the angry city-folk circled in. No blows, no weapons, thank the One God, just a poisonous sort of anger coming out in words that could be just as hurtful.

"How _dare_ you!" he shouted, eyes blazing with fury, "He is a _child_, an _initiate_! You, who judge us, who call us evil even as you supported us two short weeks ago, would hold a _child_ responsible for the deaths of your loved ones?"

There was no response, people white-faced and terrified now that they had an adult, a true _Firestarter_ to deal with. Kir scoffed, saying, "Oh yes, all of you, so brave in showing your displeasure, your anger, your _hatred_ when there is no opposition, but the moment an _adult_ stands before you, calls you to task, you cower like dogs!"

"If you are to condemn anyone for being a Firestarter, condemn _me_!" he declared, eyes roving through the crowd and picking out the occasional ashamed expression, the scattered bowed heads, and feeling a sharp satisfaction in their shame. "Condemn an _adult_, a Firestarter who actually _burned_ those children we had called witches! Not a child who escaped that same fate by sheer luck and happenstance!"

Giving one last glare, he turned his back on them and met Rodri's still frightened gaze, feeling his expression soften to one of concern, saying quietly, "Are you all right, Rodri?"

"Father Kir," the young teen gasped, colliding against Kir's chest, shoulders shaking. "Easy, easy," Kir murmured, wrapping his arms around him in a loose embrace, mentally thanking the practice all the Bellamys had given him, "You're all right. You're officially a Firestarter Initiate then?"

"A moon ago, yeah," the boy mumbled, Anur stepping past them and standing between them and the uneasily shifting crowd, "Don't even think about it," he heard Anur snarl over a rasp of steel, "You'll have to get through _me_ first."

"And _us_," a rough and achingly familiar voice said, startled yelps and mumbles coming from where three men and a woman came shoving their way through the crowd to stand next to Anur, the oldest of the men turning towards Rodri and Kir and giving a grim smile, continuing, "Sorry it took us so long to get here, Rodri. But it seems your brother Firestarter here has things well in hand."

Every one of them were dressed in heavy leathers and thin clothes, used to the heat of the forge even in winter, and every one of them had makeshift weapons of forge-tools in hand. Kir felt a surge of affection for this group and for this man in particular, "It is good to see you agan, Axeli. Thank you for looking after Rodri."

The grizzled old blacksmith, with a few more scars and a few more wrinkles than when Kir had last seen him but otherwise unchanged, gave a beaming smile at that, laughing and coming up to clap Kir on the shoulder, "Kir Dinesh as I live and breathe! It _is_ you! I guessed so, seeing as I think you're the only Firestarter outside of Sunhame, but couldn't be sure, it's been what, twelve years and my eyesight is not the best anymore."

"More like nearly fourteen," Kir said wryly, having a brief moment of wondering where all the time had gone before he returned to the present. "Rodri, were you on the way to the forge?"

"Yes," Rodri said, finally pulling away a bit but Kir kept an arm draped over the boy's shoulders protectively. "Thank you for coming, Master Axeli."

"Somehow, I will convince you to call me by my given name alone before your ordination," the forgemaster grumbled, "Never managed with your mentor but by Vkandis I'll manage it with you! Now, I take it this protective fellow is the Enforcer you mentioned in your stories? _Make a hole people show's over get a move on I have some work to be doing!_" he bellowed over his shoulder, the slowly dispersing crowd moving much faster.

"Lieutenant-Enforcer Anur Bellamy," Anur introduced himself after sheathing his blades, "I watch his back and shoot the ones that run in the leg."

"That was only the Oathbreaker," Kir grumbled half-heartedly, nodding his head to the two members of Axeli's entourage he recognized – his daughter Breta, some years older than him and if he wasn't mistaken, the boy that had been courting her when he was ordained, Yakob or something similar.

"The Oathbreaker?" Rodri perked up, "That story was real? And it was you?"

"I don't know the story, but there was an Oathbreaker and we did declare him Nameless and kill him," Kir replied briskly, clicking his tongue against his teeth and calling, "Riva!"

The gelding walked over to him and nudged his shoulder, "Yes, yes, we're moving," he muttered, Axeli catching it and nodding, saying, "We'll walk with you to the Temple gates, could use the chance to catch up. Don't think it's a good idea for you to be in the forges right now, Rodri."

"Oh," the teen said quietly, Kir tightening his arm briefly and Axeli hastened to elaborate, "Not because you're not welcome, lad, far from it. No one there is quite this stupid," he glared at the by now almost entirely vacated street, "But if you have troubles getting there – and you won't be calm enough for controlled flames my lad, not to the standards we need. Detail work, you know."

"Oh," Rodri repeated, tension in his shoulders easing and he smiled up at Axeli, "You're probably right," he agreed, "I just – wanted to get out of the Temple."

"I don't blame you," Kir informed him, "I planned the majority of my life around never setting foot in the Temple District again. I would be more than happy to escape at a later date to catch up with Axeli, perhaps in two days?"

"We'll be in the forges," Axeli agreed, "You'll all three come then?"

"I'm not leaving him in the Temple unsupervised," Kir said dryly, nodding towards Anur, who snorted and said, "Like I'd let you wander around Sunhame without someone watching your bac- woah. Impressive."

"The gates are rather impressive," Breta spoke up, pride in her voice, "It's too bad you're seeing the tradesman's gate – the Eastern Gate of the Sun! Now _that_ is magnificent!"

"Here's where we leave you then," Axeli said, clapping Kir on the shoulder with well-concealed worry in his eyes, "Take care of yourself in there."

There had been very few Sons of Sun to take power without bloodshed, Kir knew. That was the most likely source of his friend's concern – that, and the knowledge that Kir had been sent from Sunhame in the first place to die the death of the politically inconvenient.

"Before we go any further, I would like to point out that fleeing the country is still on the table," Anur said cheerfully, serious expression belying his tone. Kir chuckled, shaking his head as the three blacksmiths departed after quiet farewells to Rodri, "We're not fleeing the country, Anur. Three years of work for this and run now? No, there is still too much to do."

"Though if I do get permanently assigned to Sunhame I might take you up on that," he corrected, Rodri and Anur both snorting before they continued forward, Kir finally removing his arm from Rodri's shoulders and the boy moving away from his side. Until he knew where he stood in this new regime, it would be best if they weren't linked any further than they would be by entering at the same time.

One step into the Temple District itself, a simple matter of flashing his summons scroll and even that was probably unnecessary, and he was very glad that Rodri was already well on his way to some _entirely different_ destination. The tension in the air was a palpable, heavy thing – the only thing he could compare it to was the choking fear that rogue Empath had produced.

Anur hissed between his teeth, eyes sweeping the elaborate cobbled paths and carefully trimmed gardens leading this way and that to various gold-drenched and dramatically carved buildings meant at one point only to glorify their God. When Kir had ridden out of here, eager to shake the dust of Sunhame from his feet, there was seldom an hour where these paths were abandoned, even in the wee hours of the morning. Now though, it was barely a mark before noon and he could only see a handful of people moving about, and all of them had the hurried, head-down focus of the desperately afraid.

"This – isn't good," Anur murmured, Kir inclining his head slightly and replying lowly, "Let's settle the horses, stables aren't far."

The stables at least seemed normal and Kir could feel both of them relax at the usual bustle that came around animals. Whickers greeted them, a stablehand taking one glance at them before hurrying forward, bowing to Kir and saying, "Your Holiness, how may I serve?"

"If we could be directed to two available stalls, preferably close to one another, and a place to store our tack, we would be much obliged," Kir replied politely.

"How long will you be staying in the District?" the boy – more like a young man, he looked around fourteen – asked, straightening and seeming to relax at Kir's tone and relatively simple questions.

"Unknown," Kir grimaced, "At least five days."

"Right, follow me please, sirs," they were quickly led to two rather large stalls, freshly prepared and, even better, next to one another. "Are there any special notes for your horses, Your Holiness?"

"Both are battle trained," Kir exaggerated slightly, "But of good temperament. We will tend to them ourselves as frequently as possible, there were no true details in our summons, I'm afraid. If they're to be turned out, it would probably be best if they were taken together."

"Battle-trained, partnered, yes sir – any dietary concerns or medical issues that need observation?" the boy was making notes on the small slates hanging next to the stall doors – new from the last time he was here, but a very good idea.

"None," Kir assured him.

"Excellent, would you be settling them yourselves then?" At Kir's nod, he continued, "Then in a few minutes I'll return to show you where to place your tack. Your Holiness, Enforcer," with another quick bow, he was gone. The calm competence was reassuring, Kir found, and the stablehand's timing was excellent as no sooner had the two of them exited the stalls with their saddles balanced on their shoulders than he returned.

"You sure we need to leave?" Anur asked, only half-joking, as they headed out of the stables, saddle-bags still slung over their shoulders. "I'm sure we could just sleep in Aelius' stall, he wouldn't step on us."

"I highly doubt she summoned us to Sunhame so that we could lurk in the stables the entire time," Kir replied dryly, exchanging nods with a young acolyte passing them, "Though the idea is tempting. Hopefully the atmosphere will be a bit less stifling where we're going."

"And that is?"

"Son of Sun's residence."

As Kir had half-anticipated, the closer they drew to what was now Solaris' residence, the less oppressive the very air seemed – indeed, there was an air of muted excitement about the place. People of various ranks walked about briskly, missions clear in their minds as they went about fulfilling their new Son of Sun's will – he had been afraid of this.

They were able to make it into the residency itself before they were stopped, and even that was easily brushed aside with a wave of the scroll, the primary seal being the one personal to the Son of Sun. He would need to point out the weakness of that – what if he had simply saved an old one as he had his Seal of Sunhame document? True, anyone trying to sneak in to assassinate Solaris would have more than guards and a formidable mage in her own right to deal with, but it was still a threat.

Anur seemed to catch it too, if the grumbling under his breath about lacksadaisical security precautions and stupidly incautious rulers was any indication.

Kir exhaled slowly, slipping into mage-sight as they neared the rooms actually assigned to the Son of Sun – there was an entire palace that was technically hers now, but the rooms that were actually used were a bare half of the entire complex. He had no doubt a fair number of the more frivolous rooms and treasuries would be emptied and repurposed for a more practical or at least theological motive.

That was one thing the Son of Sun seal did have going for it – each Son of Sun had their personal magical signature embedded in the seal itself. How that worked when there was a Son of Sun that wasn't a mage as well, Kir had no idea, he'd never been able to find an explanation in his rather half-hearted searches for that information. It wasn't a particularly safe avenue of research, after all. One might worry he was getting ideas above his station.

But from an immediate practicality perspective, it meant that he could simply follow the thread trailing out from Solaris' seal. Now that he was close, it was much easier to figure out a passable route taking him in the proper direction rather than hitting dead end after dead end.

Blinking a few times to clear his vision, he blinked a few more times to ensure he wasn't hallucinating or still half-immersed in the aetheral planes. But no, the door her thread had led to really was that hideously gaudy. Were those gem-encrusted peacock feather motifs?

"My eyes," Anur groaned, covering his eyes with his hand, "They burn!"

"I… am appalled," Kir said, tilting his head and squinting, "I think those are _cherubs_ up near the top."

"You're still _looking_?" Anur asked incredulously.

Kir rolled his eyes and grabbed Anur's arm, guiding the still self-blindfolded Herald to the doors and rapping on a rare flat area sharply before shoving the door open – it was heavy, but still swung smoothly. Good structural craftsmanship at least, even if whoever had approved the design for the decoration had to have been drinking.

"Where are your bodyguards?" Kir demanded, spotting Solaris at her desk and not another soul. He had been surprised by the lack of presence at her doors, but had supposed they were inside to ensure no one had come through the window or to serve as some sort of surprise force, but there wasn't a trace of anyone, concealed under glamours or not.

The woman jumped slightly, twisting in her chair and blinking for a moment before smiling brilliantly, "Kir! And you must be Enforcer Anur Bellamy – are you all right?"

"Is it as bad in here as that door was?" Anur asked, peeking through his fingers and sighing in relief, lowering his hand at last, "Not so bad, thank goodness. Your Eminence," he bowed deeply before starting to kneel, Kir quickly following his example only to stop when Solaris leapt to her feet, crying, "Don't you dare! Either of you!"

Sweeping forward, she grabbed Kir's hands in her own and said, "You will _not_ kneel to me, unless I am manifesting the Voice, I suppose. I am still your sister, brother, if you will have me."

"Always," Kir promised, catching the trace of worry in her tone. He wouldn't doubt that she had already found those that used to speak familiarly with her were more distant, more cautious, now she had truly Ascended. Even those who had understood she'd been destined for greater things, that there was something Other about her, would still have been startled, especially if the stories of her Ascent were even close to accurate.

Dramatic would be an understatement, from what they'd heard.

"And as for you, Lieutenant-Enforcer," she smiled, "I don't know that you kneeling would set good precedent for future relations between our countries."

"A valid point," Anur chuckled, "Though we'll have to come up with a different explanation than that, I presume? If the atmosphere outside is any indication, it will be some time before the Valdemar matter can even be considered."

"I wouldn't know," Solaris grimaced, releasing Kir's hands and leading them to seats by the hearth, the three settling around the not-quite-so-gaudy mantle and Kir quickly setting the waiting logs alight to ward off the faint bite in the air. It also simply served as a comfort, to have flames nearby.

"I haven't been able to leave my residency more than twice in the last weeks," she sighed heavily, "Karchanek and Ulrich have been indispensable, but trying to get the most immediate of the reforms through has been a mess, not to mention the fact there were quite a few who didn't see the Ascencion Miracle and are causing further difficulties. Until those matters are at least somewhat resolved, the head of my guard has decided it would be best if I remained here and started issuing decrees without excessive risk and really with the amount of paperwork I've had to disperse these past weeks even without that I wouldn't have been able to leave more frequently."

"Yet Anur and I weren't stopped more than once and all I had to do was flash your personal seal – there is no difference between yours and Lastern's except for a mage, which the servant who asked me most certainly was not. Any assassin would have to get through more than just your non-existant guardsmen, but the matter remains."

"They're not at the door?" Solaris blinked, surprised, "I had thought – oh, blast." She pinched the bridge of her nose, "All those years building support and _still_ there are so many troubles."

"You're still alive," Anur pointed out pragmatically, "I think a lot of those years went into that fact alone."

"Outside of the area just around your residency, the fear is thick enough you can almost taste it," Kir said bluntly. "It's barely before noon and there is hardly a soul wandering the gardens."

"Noon?" Solaris blinked, glancing over her shoulder at the water-clock before jumping to her feet in alarm, "Noon! I was planning to conduct the noon service today! Blast it Karchanek must be covering for me – "

"Well it's too late now," Anur said dryly, "Calm down, Your Eminence. Sit back down and relax. You've clearly been working yourself too hard if you've been losing hours like that."

"First, I insist you call me Solaris," she said sternly, "Second, of course I've been working hard! I have to! This has been years in the making, I can't just rest on my laurels now, the work has barely begun! And now I've gone and forgotten an obligation to conduct a _service_ honestly – "

"Work that won't get done at all if you make yourself sick," Kir interrupted, raising an eyebrow, "And besides that, who exactly knew you were planning to conduct the noon service today? Was it some sort of scheduled thing?"

"Well – no, I simply want to conduct one service a day," Solaris finally sat down again, "I've done morning services the past few days so I thought I'd switch things up a bit. Karchanek knew, my guards knew… and whoever they told."

"But it's all rumor outside those few, rumor that can easily be brushed off as a mistake," Kir shook his head, "You spent these past years dealing with political machinations and you're so easily flustered? It's simple, you can even make the Sun Descending service tonight so your pattern of one service a day isn't broken. As for those you told – apologize for losing track of time while you meditated on the problem of those who didn't witness the Ascending Miracle."

"But I have – oh for goodness sake, I can't believe I didn't think of that," Solaris pinched the bridge of her nose, "I really must be tired or _something_ if that didn't even occur to me. Well – while we're on that matter, I don't suppose you have any suggestions?"

"What about Hansa?" Anur asked, Kir nodding at him and saying, "A good suggestion."

Solaris looked between the two of them dubiously, "Who exactly is Hansa? Historically he is a Son of Sun from near a millennia ago – "

"A Firecat," Kir returned her surprised look, "The Firecat that delivered my summons and spoke to the 62nd, as a matter of fact. He spoke of seeing us in Sunhame, so I had assumed he was here with you."

"No, I have never met a Firecat, much less a specific one," Solaris shook her head, "One hasn't been necessary as of yet."

"With what you've been saying about doubters? You may want to reconsider that," Anur pointed out, "Can't hurt to meditate on the problem and ask. In the meantime, we'll… find some food."

"Excellent idea," Kir agreed, rising to his feet, "We have travel rations in our packs if you're truly desperate, but why suffer through those rations if you don't have to? I think I still remember how to reach the kitchens."

"Think they'll have spice-cake?" Anur asked as they headed out the door.

Kir sighed.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: **Hey! Back again I see. Little concerned about this chapter - wondering if the thing with Rodri is believable? Small crowd, lots of anger - tried to set it up with the beginning and it was words and such so not as extreme as physically attacking him but still... worried. Let me know! Oh, and a recent consult has led me to decide that there was 1.5 years between Solaris' Ascent and Talia's ordination at Midsummer, just as a heads up. Thanks for reading!


	3. Heirs of Ari

To exactly no one's surprise, when they returned to Solaris' office, there was a familiar Cat waiting with her. _:Hello brother,:_ Hansa said warmly, _:And well met, cousin.:_

_:I'd prefer if you directed all such comments to me, and I relay them to Kir, thank you,:_ Anur said, words polite, tone distinctly frigid.

_:Herald - :_

_:No Kir, you don't like Mindspeech, even when I do it, and I said I'd try to keep others from forcing their mental voices on you. This is me keeping my word.:_

"Thank you," Kir murmured, Hansa inclining his head, still managing to look remarkably regal from where he was sprawled across Solaris' lap with her hands tangled in his fur. "He agrees," Anur relayed aloud, Solaris watching Kir with some sympathy as they set their finds on the low table between their chairs before sitting down.

"It is an extremely odd sensation," she said, "The… mindspeech, Hansa says you call it?"

"That would be the direct translation, yes," Anur agreed, calm tone entirely at odds with the uninhibited glee that was fairly radiating off him from the moment he'd found a stash of nearly a week old (and therefore, unacceptable to sophisticated palates) spice-cake. It was all Kir had been able to do to keep him from carrying nothing but armfuls of the dessert back. At least he would always be easy to find a gift for.

"That – is an excellent amount of spice-cake," Solaris smiled, "How did you know it was my favorite?"

"I didn't – it's my favorite!" Anur beamed, apparently delighted at finding someone else who appreciated the traditional dessert as much as he did, "But I'll split my bounty with you. And Kir gets a piece or two, even if he doesn't appreciate it as much as he should."

"You have got to be kidding me," Kir groaned, burying his face in his hands as Solaris and Anur started bickering on whether or not thickness should be taken into account when it came to calculating an even split on spice-cake portions.

The matter was finally resolved (answer, yes) and Solaris had taken her first piece of spice cake and fruit before she asked, "Where did you find this much spice-cake, by the by? It's not exactly typical fare in the District, unfortunately."

"You'll have to change that now that you're Son of Sun," Anur informed her solemnly before shrugging and swooping in for another piece. Kir was content with his cold meat slices and cheese – he'd have his "paltry share" of spice-cake later. "As for where – the kitchens. It was set aside to be disposed of, probably sent to charities or something, at least I hope so, because it was a few days old or something ridiculous. Spice-cake keeps well though, no idea why they'd get rid of it."

"I think it was left over from the Midwinter's Day celebrations," Kir said, "They last a few days past Midwinter itself here, but I would bet they weren't as jovial or universal as usual this year."

"Yeah, watching the former Son of Sun get set on fire could probably do that," Anur snorted, pouring himself some water.

"Lastern wasn't set on fire," Solaris said, looking at them in bemusement, "Is that what they're saying?"

"Who knows what they're saying," Kir sighed, "The rumors were ridiculous. No fire then? That's somewhat disappointing, what happened to him?"

"He was struck by lightning and turned to ash at the moment of the lighting."

Kir and Anur stared at her and a particularly smug looking Hansa for a few shocked moments before Kir managed, "I don't think that's any better."

"And then the Sunlord possessed His Image and rose from His Throne to honor me with His Crown, resized to fit my head as it was lowered," now he knew Solaris was enjoying the piecemeal revelations, her last bite of spice-cake doing nothing to hide her mirthful expression.

"…that's a statue, I'm guessing?" Anur muttered sidelong.

"A very large statue," Kir replied faintly, mentally thanking the Sunlord that nothing so dramatic had happened while he was around. Building up a tolerance of sort for miraculous occurences or not, his first instinct would still have been to run away as fast as possible.

"And I suppose the lightning struck at the exact moment of igniting and from a cloudless sky?" Anur asked a few moments later, voice dry as he had apparently recovered and returned the majority of his attention to food besides spice-cake, at last.

"Of course it was cloudless," Kir snorted before Solaris could reply, "First, if He were to go to the effort to turn someone to ash with lightning, why not go the extra _mel_ and have the sky cloudless? Secondly, it was Midwinter's Day."

Anur paused, swallowed his mouthful of cheese, before saying, "Wait – are you implying that it's _always sunny_ on Midwinter?"

"Of course it is, the ignition happens when the first beam of high-noon sun hits the doused Eternal Flame through the oculus – how would there be a beam of high-noon sun if it was cloudy?"

"Are you – is he serious? Has there never been a cloudy Midwinter?" Anur demanded, turning to Solaris. She was no help to him, she looked as bemused as Kir felt, replying, "Well – I suppose there were cloudy mornings or afternoons, but during high-noon? No, it's never been cloudy in my recollection, or in the records I've read – it would be an extremely bad omen. I would have to look into the interpretations but I'm fairly certain that would mean Vkandis Sunlord has abandoned Karse, for her people are no longer His."

"Do you have cloudy Midwinters in Valdemar?" Kir asked, finally making the connection Anur's reaction implied and feeling utterly shocked, "That _happens_?"

"I can't say every Midwinter, but a fair number of them, yeah," Anur said, Solaris and Kir exchanging shocked looks before Kir voiced what they'd probably both been thinking, "Your country is utterly bizarre."

"Oh no! That does _not_ make Valdemar bizarre, that makes _you _weird – I can pretty much guarantee that the vast majority of countries, if not _all_ countries besides Karse don't have that happen. At least not as a _nationwide_ phenomena," Anur must have caught their doubtful looks and got a mulish expression on his face, "I will prove it, I will so prove it one of these days. In this? You Karsites are the bizarre ones."

"Good luck with that," Kir shook his head, feeling decidedly off-balance with that revelation. If the Midwinter's Sun wasn't guaranteed in other nations, what did that mean for Karse? At the very least, it was reassuring, that at no point in their long descent had they truly _abandoned_ the Sunlord's Way as a whole, but on another it was a little unnerving.

The idea of a _cloud-covered_ Midwinter was actually mildly terrifying – he'd have to make sure to never be in Valdemar for the day itself, or any nation besides Karse if Anur turned out to be right.

"Well, speaking of Midwinter," Solaris almost visibly brushed aside their previous discussion, asking instead, "What was your Midwinter's ceremony? You mentioned Hansa arrived, he says he's the reason my summons to you disappeared off my desk? I assumed it had been sent out but hadn't expected it to have arrived that day!"

"Actually, with that, it seems a reasonable time to present this," Kir pulled the carefully scribed reply to Solaris' summons out of a messenger tube they'd stuffed in his packs. This was the final of at least four drafts Greich had run through in the days immediately following Midwinter, and every literate member of the unit that stood still long enough had been forced to read over the document during one of its revisions.

Solaris took it curiously, cracking the seal and unrolling it – Kir didn't quite hold his breath, but both he and Anur had set their food and drink aside to watch her reaction. She was impressively impassive, and even when she looked up from the document to speak her tone revealed nothing, "I assume then, that you agree with the main thrust of this message? That you would prefer not to be reassigned permanently to Sunhame?"

"I would much rather have never had to set foot in this city again," Kir said with a painful sort of honesty, knuckles white on the arms of his chair, "But I know that is impossible, so having – retaining my post in the 62nd would be – it would be appreciated."

Solaris tilted her head slightly and Anur murmured, "Hansa is asking if it would even be possible for you to lead the Firestarter Order from a border posting."

"I think it would be more than possible, even desirable, considering how the Firestarting Order must be restructured," Kir replied, directing his gaze to Hansa, "As it is not going to be disbanded, it would be best if the true target of the Firestarting Order could be presented relatively quickly, so people are not left wondering if the reclassification of a witch is a lie or at the least a temporary measure. With Ancar supplying blood-mages – while he hasn't attacked Karse full on yet, it is only a matter of time – having Firestarters assigned to the border would reassure people that Firestarters truly _aren't_ going to be used as internal policing forces. Not to the extent we were."

"Besides that, I am not sure how combat-ready the other Firestarters are. Also, from the perspective of being accepted _by the Order_ as a leader – I have not dealt with a single one of them in over ten years, expecting them to follow my orders and direction without leading the way? Disastrous."

"And if you were stationed here, you'd be miserable," Anur said bluntly, turning to Solaris and continuing, "So I'm sorry, but if you can't come up with some other option than permanently assigning Kir to Sunhame? You might as well write me out of any plans you have, because I can't support a regime that asked my brother to sacrifice one hell of a lot in peace of mind and otherwise only to make him miserable. And I'll knock him out and drag him away too, so you'll lose us both and pretty quick."

"Anur - !" Kir hissed, eyes widening in alarm as he kept talking and wanting nothing more than to grab him and flee because speaking that frankly _could not_ end well –

"Kir," Solaris said quietly, drawing him out of his plotting of escape routes with a hand on his knee, "Calm down. Anur speaks nothing less than the truth and I will never be angry for that. Frustrated, maybe, but never angry. And he is speaking the truth, isn't he? You would be miserable, were I to take you from the 62nd."

"I would be… upset, if you removed me from the 62nd entirely," Kir corrected carefully, trying to clamp down on his immediate panic. He knew Solaris, maybe not as well as some of her other advisors, but thanks to years of letters and veiled exchanges, _he knew her_. She would not immolate them for questioning her non-Divine edicts, she would welcome helpful advice and criticism but it was one thing to know that and another to _know_ that, when she sat there with the ancient and elaborate Sun Disk exclusive to the Son of Sun about her neck and a Firecat (_a Firecat!_) on her lap.

He suddenly felt much more empathy for all those who shied from his robes.

"I would not be _miserable_ unless I were permanently stationed in Sunhame, or in any major temple," Kir continued, "I do not – I do not like cities. I do not care for large congregations – I like ministering to a community where I know each and every one of them. I _enjoy_ being useful, working with my flames in new and odd ways – and I truly believe that for a long while, the only place I can have both is in the Sunsguard as a chaplain, and as I am already in the 62nd and have a very good relationship with them, why change a good thing?"

"Why change a good thing indeed," Solaris smiled, sitting back in her chair, "Thank you, _both_ of you, for your honesty. And I will write a letter to the same effect to your 62nd, I get the feeling that if anyone were to try and take you from them against your will they'd have quite the fight on their hands."

"On multiple fronts," Anur murmured, clarifying with, "Hansa."

"Well I, at least, appreciate the warning, and can greatly appreciate the mutual affection and respect this indicates," Solaris chuckled, continuing, "I was planning to do a massive reassignment effort, and only leave priests where they were if literally every adult in their congregation requested they stay. I must say I anticipated most of those being small village and pastoral priests, not chaplains! Maybe I'll have to reassess my plans!"

"What are your plans regarding the Sunsguard?" Kir asked, finally reaching for some fruit again and relaxing, "While there isn't as much corruption as in the priesthood itself, there is still a significant amount from what I've heard."

"I would appreciate your insights on it," Solaris nodded, selecting another piece of spice-cake before saying, "I plan to basically disband all those units I cannot trust on a temporary basis and make it permanent on a case-by-case basis at the unit level and then deal with individual problems. I hope that we can simply select decent officers and leave them to restock their unit's rosters appropriately."

"And what will you do with disgruntled men who've been discharged permanently, with weapons training and bitterness alike?" Kir raised an eyebrow, surprised at the scope of her plan for the Sunsguard but understanding how it was probably necessary. He had received a disheartening number of reports of corruption from the mild to the obscene from the 62nd's former members, and a lot of it hadn't been something he could really do anything about at the time.

"Those units that remain – of which there are a decent amount – will work as internal policing. I also think arming the populace should keep things calmer – at the least it will make them feel more confident, even if they don't necessarily know what they're doing," Solaris shrugged, and Kir honestly smiled at that, "Perfect!" he agreed, "That will serve quite a few purposes for reassurance."

"Exactly my hope," Solaris smiled, Anur bringing the mood down a bit when he asked, "And Ancar? Bandits and pirates and the like? The Sunsguard is stretched thin as-is, cutting the numbers even only by a few units – when it sounds more like it'll be at least halved – is going to lead to serious shortages and problems, especially if the permanently discharged start acting up."

"That, I don't have a solution to," Solaris grimaced, a blank moment passing before a thoughtful expression crossed her face, "That could work… Hansa just suggested guilded mercenaries."

"That is going to be extremely expensive," Kir said immediately, "Given how poorly they've been dealt with in the past? There will have to be a massive up-front payment offered to tempt any of the guilded sort back into Karse. And extremely tightly worded contracts, with massive penalties as extra reassurance."

"And it's going to have to be sold to Karsites carefully," Anur added, nodding towards Kir as he continued, "Kir says the Tedrel Wars had a major impact on Karse and the Sunsguard's trust of Sunhame – I wouldn't doubt the scars from the Wars mean people will be leery of mercenaries too, guilded or not. Valdemar hiring the Skybolts was more because Eldan personally vouched for their Captain than actually trusting Guild mercenaries and for us the last mercenaries we dealt with were expected enemies, not supposed allies."

"Arming the populace should help, but he's right, it's going to have to be explained carefully," Kir agreed.

"As for the expense," Anur said wryly, "Might I suggest stripping down that horrific door as a starting point?"

"It will be one of the first things to go," she promised.

***===***pagebreak***===***

This visit was going much better than Anur had anticipated. Angry crowd insulting Rodri aside, entering Sunhame had been simple enough and finding Solaris had been alarmingly so. Given the Sunlord's ability to literally strike people down with_ lightning,_ he doubted anyone who attacked her would make it very far, but there was no reason to be incautious.

Especially since she was the first person he'd met who seemed to like spice-cake as much as he did. That sort of taste had to be preserved.

Now, they had left Solaris to start blitzing her way through paperwork regarding the Sunsguard plan with Hansa now keeping a watchful eye on her. Her guards had arrived at last, and hopefully they understood the magnitude of their error by the stern looks Kir and Anur had both given them. If they didn't, an actual lecture would be forthcoming, and if Kir wouldn't do it, he'd take full advantage of his odd position in the Sunsguard hierarchy and deliver it himself.

His already odd half-removed-upward position in the rank flowcharts Devek had forced him to memorize had recently been given an immense boost after all. While only First Order Firestarters could be Head of the Order, not every First Order Firestarter was the Head.

Kir, Anur knew, was not particularly thrilled with the entirely anticipated promotion, though occasional glances at his friend's expression gave nothing away. His features could have been carved from granite for all the emotion he was showing. It gave him a somewhat alarming resemblance to Weaponsmaster Alberich, actually – one problem with Karsites all fitting a particular type as far as appearances went, he supposed. But that very forbidding expression gave away enough, there was none of his usual exasperation at the world, distant worry over whatever was keeping him up at night that particular day or even bemusement at whatever bizarre situation they'd found themselves in _this _time.

All micro-expressions with him, really, but thanks to the bizarre hunt of the Nameless and his increased if only occasional contact with Kir mind-to-mind, he'd found that it was a relatively simple matter to focus and get at least a general sense of what Kir was feeling. A bizarre sort of bond, especially since he was fairly certain it wasn't just one-way. Now that they were in Sunhame, he was hoping he could get access to those records Kir had found the hunting rite in, maybe that would have something in it about joint Voice manifestations or whatever it was that had happened to them.

If he couldn't find anything, he could always see if Firecat Hansa had any ideas…

"So, the Firestarters have basically entered self-imposed lockdown?" Anur reiterated, raising an eyebrow and hoping Kir might elaborate on what they were going to be walking into. "Supports your theory of terrified panic, at least."

"Unfortunately," Kir grimaced, "Solaris made the announcement regarding the false definition of witch-powers and the true innocence of those that were hunted for centuries almost immediately, and the news spread incredibly fast. Helped along, of course, by the fact very few actually _want _those practices to continue."

"Hence, the whole issue with Rodri earlier."

"Precisely, though I think that was exacerbated by a recent burning in the area – and the fact Rodri has been going through there for some time, so they knew he wasn't a threat himself."

"Which is messed up."

"Of course it is, but they were angry," Kir's expression soured briefly before returning to stony blankness, "People are remarkably stupid when they're angry, especially when in a group."

"Had to deal with a few mobs in the cities," Anur agreed, by now well-practiced at mentioning his experiences as a Herald without mentioning anything specific to Valdemar itself, "They were pretty ugly, and very quick to turn uglier. So their terrified panic isn't entirely unjustified, we expected it."

"They have also recently been told that they've spent their entire adult lives burning innocent children alive," Kir said, tone weary even though his face gave nothing away, "I wouldn't doubt they're guilt-stricken, and wouldn't be surprised at all if a few of them are suicidal."

_:Kir…:_

_:It's occurred to me before,: _Kir replied shortly, no longer having any visceral flinch of horror at the switch of mediums, though his knuckles went briefly white, _:But I had the luck to be somewhere I avoided burning innocents for years, did duties true to the priesthood's purpose rather than our corrupted mess of policy and practice. It has been a very long time since I've seriously considered it as anything other than a contingency plan.:_

_:...All right. I'll let that lie then.:_

_:Thank you.: _"Now, stay close to me, when Firestarters argue, things have a tendency to burst into flame," Kir warned aloud as they rounded what would be a lovely hedge when it wasn't the dead of winter and found themselves facing a remarkably plain structure compared to the elaborate coiffing on every other priesthood-associated building in the District. It was still beautiful, but full of patterned wood-and-stone and an attention to architecture that some of the others passed over in favor of tons of gilt and gold.

"Lot less shiny than the others," Anur tilted his head to one side as he examined what he supposed was the Firestarter Hall Kir had said they were heading for. "I like it."

"Glad you approve," Kir replied dryly, some of his tension easing, a small smile twitching at his lips before it vanished to his stony façade again – Anur would take what he could get. "It's one of the oldest buildings in the District, much of the mage-work that went into crafting a Hall that could withstand Firestarter arguments and debates has been lost to the ages."

"You arguments are that explosive?" Anur raised an eyebrow, "That's… surprising, really. You have a temper, yes, but you don't set things on fire unless you mean to."

"That is precisely because it is so easy for me to set things on fire," Kir replied crisply, "Control, and _strict_ control, was a vital necessity for me. For those of less power, it is not quite so vital, which can lead to problems when they're running on terror and anger and not much else. Also, as soon as one person pulls a blade in a fist-fight – "

"Everyone grabs the nearest one and sticks it in the other guy," Anur finished with a sigh, eyeing the doors that were fast approaching, "Makes sense. You go first."

Kir actually rolled his eyes at that, pushing one of the oversized wooden doors open and promptly side-stepping.

A chair leg, which was, naturally, on fire, flew past them and skidded across the paving stones before coming to a halt against a stone bench.

"Well, that was a bit of a warmer welcome than I anticipated," Anur said finally, peering around the edge of the door to look in at the source of the flaming chair leg.

Kir chuckled softly, actually stepping into the sun and flame-lit room, saying, "Hail, brethren."

"We have not yet come to a decision," a middle-aged Firestarter said stiffly, apparently not recognizing Kir as one of their own, "Kindly leave us until the Firestarters Conclave has conclude – "

"Enough," the woman sitting at the far end of the room interrupted him, raising her formerly bowed head and rising to her feet. "There is no Conclave. There is simply the mindless bickering of terrified wretches who don't dare honestly _think_ about what has happened, what has been revealed to us."

_:That seems a little harsh,: _Anur murmured to Aelius, the Companion replying promptly, _:Hush, I want to hear all of this.:_

"Eldest Brother," she continued, brown eyes locked on Kir with that same blankly forbidding expression Kir had crafted onto his own face, stepping off the slight dias her chair was on and beginning to walk towards them, "Is it true? What has been said? Have they really – were the witches of – " her breath hitched and she stopped walking halfway across the room, raising a hand to her mouth as her composure wavered, "Have the witches I've burned been nothing but children?"

"Yes."

_:That seems a little harsh too…:_

_:Hush, Chosen!:_

The woman, who by now he was certain was Jaina, the current-yet-former Head of the Firestarting Order, entirely lost her composure at this point, dropping to her knees with a crack that made Anur wince and a sob that finally seemed to jar Kir into action.

In four quick strides he was kneeling at her side, wrapping his arms around her and letting her cry into his shoulder, shaking. Anur looked around at the other Firestarters – nine of them, with Rodri nowhere to be found, thankfully. He wasn't entirely sure how this initiate inducted as a Firestarter business worked – Rodri had only been in Sunhame two years at the most, there was no way he could actually be an acolyte yet –

_:Chosen, focus,:_ Aelius' voice had a weary tone he hated, _:These people are breaking.:_

_:Not yet they're not,:_ Anur replied, examining the nine Firestarters, from late teens to forties – one distinguished man might even break fifty – and noting the ones that looked the least shaken. They were the ones he'd want to keep an eye on, really. The ones that were reacting were at least _reacting_, not unfeeling with shock or denial or, worse, entirely uncaring.

"Right then," he said aloud, everyone at least tilting their heads towards him and he clapped his hands together, rubbing them briskly as he looked around, "First order of business – are those chairs supposed to be on fire?"

"…No."

"Thought so, now – when was the last time you all ate?"

He may not know what to do with people who'd just been told that the reason people shied away from them, flinched when they walked by, hid the pregnant women and children away if they passed through town was nothing, was _true_. That they really _were_ the monsters everyone saw them as, because the targets weren't justified at all, were just innocent children. Or, well, not children, Alberich, but innocent – of being burn worthy because Alberich and innocence just didn't compute well in his head –

_:Chosen.:_

Aelius no longer sounded weary, he sounded amused, maybe even a little fond – so Anur counted it as a win. Because if he couldn't piece them back together, had no idea where even to begin, he could at least distract them and make sure they held it together long enough for someone to figure out just what could even possibly fix this situation.

As long as it didn't take longer than a week. After that, he was out of ideas.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: **Okay - epic length A/N and service announcement here:

First - hope this chapter worked for you. Got pointed out Solaris last chapter was a little off-key for some people and me too but I struggle with her, hopefully this struck the right balance of human-yet-AWEsome let me know and I'll try to get better with her voice. I struggle with her, any tips/tricks/ideas are appreciated even if they may go unused. More Firestarter trauma/drama etc. to come, it is the focus of the fic after all (*cough* title *cough*)

Now, FOR ALL THOSE WHO KNOW HOW TALIA GOT ORDAINED - YOU'RE DONE, NO NEED TO KEEP READING, THANKS!

On multiple sites I've gotten a surprising amount of communication regarding Talia's ordination - requests for how it should happen, questions as to what I'm going to do with the ceremony, is it going to be a ceremonial or practical posting etc. etc.

This has led me to realize a surprising amount of people have not in fact read the novella by Mercedes Lackey (ML herself, yes) called "Sun in Glory" published in the anthology of the same name a fair number of years ago. This novella details Talia's ordination. I have an entire sub-plot/storyline/it's gonna be EPIC planned AROUND THIS NOVELLA. I will not be covering the details of the novella content, just using it as a structure. Will it still make sense without reading the novella? Yes, it should, because the boys have to understand what's going on too. Will it probably be a much richer experience if you read the novella? Yeah, probably. Also, I really liked it and think it's good and Alberich is the MC - how can Alberich being an MC go wrong, seriously? (Don't tell me, just... don't).

Anyway, with any and all questions regarding Talia's ordination - read Sun in Glory by ML or wait patiently, but just be aware that the ordination itself is already canonized and I'm not messing with it.

Thanks readers, you all rock!


	4. Investments

Kir just let Jaina cry into his shoulder, looking over her head to examine the Firestarter's Hall. He hadn't been here in years, and in the years he'd been gone he'd hardly given the place a first thought, much less a second one. But he'd never forgotten it, not really. After being taken from his family, it was the first place he'd felt somewhat at home.

The main Hall had vaulted ceilings and the western wall had a massive stained-glass window depicting the Sun Disk in all the shades of flame – thick-paned skylights let in more light without being too vulnerable to weather. Below the stained-glass window, the wall was plain paneled wood with doors to the central courtyard in the middle. He couldn't see those from his current angle though, it was blocked by the seat of the Incendiary, Head of the Order, where Jaina had been residing a few minutes ago.

The tables and chairs formed a false-corridor approaching the Incendiary and were seldom used outside of a true Conclave; for that matter, from what he recalled the Incendiary was hardly ever actually sitting in that chair – it wasn't like people often approached the Firestarting Order with petitions or problems. Not any longer, anyways.

"…First order of business – are those chairs supposed to be on fire?"

Kir shook his head, smiling and heard Jaina laugh quietly, pulling away from him and wiping her face with her sleeve, a much more brilliant crimson than his faded robes. "That would be your Enforcer then?" she asked quietly, and Kir nodded, "Anur Bellamy, Lieutenant-Enforcer," he murmured, unable and unwilling to keep the fondness from his voice.

"Thought so, now - when was the last time you all ate?"

"And resident mother-hen," he added, chuckling and rising to his feet, offering Jaina a hand and helping her up before turning to Anur and saying, "Not every problem in the world can be solved by adding spice-cake, Anur."

"But the situation can at least be made more pleasant," Anur replied loftily, "Though depending on the answer, spice-cake wouldn't be the best because it's not exactly nutritious. Or something to eat if you've been living of tea and bread for the past two weeks."

"The Conclave was initiated three days ago," the only other Firestarter to have spoken said. Kir recognized him of course, Colbern, a Second Order Firestarter who was the second oldest of their entire Order and fond of the more militaristic aspects of their traditions. If he wasn't mistaken, the man was the only other Firestarter in recent history to have been sent out as a chaplain, decades ago, well before even the Tedrel Wars, and he'd volunteered for the job.

"In response to Her Eminence's announcement regarding modern witches," Jaina continued, sounding exhausted, "She made the announcement after the Sun Ascending service, so word spread very quickly. We – hadn't been notified in advance and it was – is – it's a shock, and we didn't respond very coherently."

Kir felt a sharp spike of anger, of indignation, and only half of it was his own. Shooting a look Anur's way, the Herald-Enforcer's blank expression gave everything away – he never had a blank expression except when he thought showing his emotions might worry people.

He'd never had the heart to tell him that the blank expression was probably more unnerving to observers than actually showing his anger or frustration, particularly if they were familiar with his usually highly mobile features.

But blast it all, Solaris should have given them _some_ forewarning, even just pulled Jaina aside before the service, as she had clearly attended. A letter, a brief notice that something regarding the Firestarting Order would be announced after the service, _anything_ would have been better than simply decrying their Order's actions for the past centuries in front of the people they'd policed for witchcraft and pulled victims from in the first place.

"Well then, where in this place can we find food? And chairs that aren't on fire? If you've been arguing in here for three days with only occasional sustentence, you're going to be falling over soon," Anur said, Colbern again the one who responded, saying tiredly, "Basic kitchen is this way," turning on his heel and leading the way to the back of the room, the other Firestarters following him to what Kir remembered as an extremely basic kitchen and dining area that also overlooked the central courtyard, using mixed clear and stained glass windows to provide lighting and a view.

_:Kir, this is going to be bad – I can't believe she didn't give any warning about it!:_

_:It's not something that would really be considered,: _Kir replied, waving for Jaina to precede him through the door, meeting Anur's gaze and taking advantage of the momentary isolation to shrug helplessly, _:There's only eleven of us. And that's with a boy I'd bet was ordained a few moons ago, if that. The priesthood has hundreds of members across Karse, we're not anything approaching a priority in that respect.:_

_:Um, I'm sorry, did I just make up the fact that she's counting on the Firestarters to form a line of defense against Hardorn while the Sunsguard is _crippled_ with housecleaning?:_

_:While nothing like that was explicitly stated, it was implied,:_ Kir allowed, stepping through the door himself and Anur immediately headed for cupboards and the pantry to hunt for food. Their doors were shut with a bit more force than necessary when their contents didn't satisfy him.

"Find the tea?" he asked, heading for where he knew the mugs were, right over the water-pump and sink, intentionally enough.

"I found a lot of tea, what kind are you after?" Anur replied, opening a cupboard again and eyeing it.

"Eh – cheapest blend," Kir shrugged, looking over his shoulder at the Firestarters sitting around one of the long tables. All of them looked exhausted and dazed, they probably wouldn't even notice the taste so might as well not waste the better quality stuff.

"How am I supposed to know what's cheapest?" Anur griped, digging through the cupboard, presumably filled with boxes of tea from the sounds, "It's not like these things are labeled with prices!"

"Then the easiest to grab, since initiates will get that first," Kir snorted, Anur immediately grabbing a light-colored wooden box and sliding it over at him, shutting the tea cupboard and pulling out knives to slice the loaf of hard bread and the cheeses he'd found. Kir opened it and he raised an eyebrow, "Your cheapest tea has citrus?" he asked over his shoulder, Anur making a choking sound. Lemons and bitter oranges did grow in Karse, rather well in the southern reaches actually so it wasn't as prohibitively expensive as it apparently could be in Valdemar, but for that to be the first tea within reach rather than some basic peppermint blend?

"Yes?" Jaina replied questioningly, looking up from her hands to stare at Kir in bemusement, "Why does the price of our tea matter?"

"I am so raising my standards for the rest of our stay in Sunhame," Anur mumbled, Kir snorting and nodding agreement, shutting the box and finishing up with filling the mugs. An idle wave of his hand set the water to near boiling and he quickly dropped a few pinches of the tea blend into each mug. By the time he finished passing the mugs of tea out to his fellows, Anur had slid a platter of bread, cheese and sliced apples onto the table before grabbing a few pieces of fruit for himself and dropping onto the bench next to Kir.

"You didn't use a kettle," the oldest of the Firestarters, Seras if Kir remembered right, said, staring at his steaming mug of tea, "Did you just – did you just heat up the water? In each mug?"

"…Yes," Kir bit out, uncomfortable with the idea of giving away any his abilities in this sort of setting but knowing it was necessary. For one, if Solaris really was going to depend on Firestarters to help make up for the deficit of Sunsguard at the Hardornen border, the old ritual methods weren't going to suffice. For another, he hadn't been anywhere near another Firestarter in over a decade. If he was going to become head of the Order in more than just name, he needed to prove himself capable; if not with politics, with flames.

"Are you all going to drink it, or just stare at it, because if you won't, I definitely will, this is good!" Anur said, Kir chuckling as that statement did exactly what Anur meant it too, most of the Firestarters finally taking a sip of their tea.

"Eat something too," Kir prompted, couldn't have Anur the only one shoving food down their throats after all, "If you've all been in Conclave for three days, I doubt you've actually been feeding yourselves adequately."

"We managed not to keel over," Jaina said dryly, sitting on Kir's other side, "But that is all I can claim."

"Was anything decided then?" Kir asked, allowing everyone a few moments to at least drag some food towards them, if not actually start eating.

"The Conclave was called so we'd have an excuse to keep people out more than anything," the only other female Firestarter (Lumira, perhaps?) said, propping her chin on her hand and clearly exhausted, "We've just been – it's been – "

"We've been trying to distract ourselves from the fact that we've spent the entirety of our adult lives burning innocents alive," Seras said, gaze haunted as he looked up from his mug, shoudlers slumping as he continued, "I – the records they – Sunlord what have we _done_."

"Our job!" a Firestarter ordained in the middle of Kir's own acolyte years snarled, stocky man hitting the table with his fist and growling wordlessly as his knuckles went white, "We did our _job_ we thought we were – _everyone thought we were doing the right thing!_ And now they're going to blame _us_ for it, as if it was _just us_ that did these things when _everyone_ did it and Her Bloody Eminence didn't help matters announcing that _we were in the wrong_ and not even _mentioning_ the fucking demon-summonings, or the fact that 'witches are not defined properly', but just saying that the _Firestarter Tradition_ had been warped, what like it was _our fault - !_"

"Kir! Calm down!" Anur barked sharply, "And you too, other Firestarter!"

Kir exhaled slowly and unclenched his fists, letting the heat he'd been letting flare around him disperse and then pulling the heat out of his now literally boiling tea. The former had become a habit much less destructive than flaring flames, simply expelling heat as if he himself were a flame, but was still noticeable and made it easier for things to ignite in his vicinity. Not something he needed when surrounded by others who set things alight when stressed.

"I will have to speak with her regarding future announcement styles," Kir said, consciously letting that flare of anger go. He would have to speak with her about it, maybe even get Solaris to issue an apology, if he could talk her around to that, but he couldn't be truly angry – he understood the sheer magnitude of the issues she was facing after all, and to be perfectly honest, an Order that amounted to not even a handful of her entire priesthood could hardly be a priority. "That is Kavrick, Anur, Firestarter of the Second Order, last I heard. Which was some years ago, admittedly."

"Still Second Order, Eldest," the indicated Kavrick nodded shortly, "Apologies for my outburst. It is simply… frustrating. To think of what we will be facing when we finally get the nerve up to leave this makeshift sanctuary."

"And worrying," Jaina continued tiredly, "Even with rumors of blood-magic – unconfirmed though they are – the entirety of our Order's duties have just been… brushed aside. With everything in flux at the moment it isn't so bad, but we've been losing power for some time. I don't even know if we'll be able to sustain ourselves as an Order after this."

"Consider the rumors of blood-magic confirmed," Kir said, a wry smile crossing his face, "Who do you think kept sending reports in to start the rumors?"

"You're the one that met Fredric?" Kavrick raised an eyebrow, "I have to thank you then, I hadn't spoken to him in some time when he came up asking about _lothga_ and blood-mages. It was nice to catch up."

"They're in Hardorn then? Ancar's employing them?" Jaina asked, eyes reddened by tears narrowing nonetheless, "Have they been set against us, or are they targeted at the White Demons alone?"

"Ancar is one, from what we've heard," Kir nodded towards Anur, who was looking around the room curiously, mug clutched between both hands the only possible sign of unease. If it weren't for the humming tension Kir could feel in the back of his mind, in that odd half-removed corner he'd learned to designate _Anur_, he'd probably have missed it entirely. "And he employs his kin in the art. No blood-mage bound troops have been sent deliberately against Karse, but there has been detritus and raids – mercenaries hired by him too. But for blood-magic, it has been the incidentals that have caused problems – poisoned water ways, _lothga_ and the like. Haunts, too."

"But we're not going to be sent in against them, not if they're not actively engaging in war with us," he was nearly certain her name was Lumira, and she had leaned forward slightly, straightening in her chair, "With their targets being the White Demons – so long as there is no active war perpetrated against us, it will remain incidentals. Is that enough to justify our Order's continuation?"

"Our Order's continuation is not in question," Kir said shortly, "Our Order will remain because despite the recent declarations, there is still evil to burn. We predate the Son of Sun! We predate the theocracy! We will _not_ be extinguished by this change in regimes, because _I will not allow it to happen_!"

"And do you have the power to claim that?" Seras asked, voice equally biting, eyes narrowed as he leaned forward, "Eldest you may be, only other candidate for Head you may be, but you haven't set foot in Sunhame for over a _decade_, boy! What sort of power backs you to make that claim? This tea alone indicates you have a remarkable command of the flames, but with most of their fuel banned from use, those alone won't sustain you! Much less against a divinely chosen Son of Sun!"

"Considering how many investigations I've conducted on her behalf in recent years, I damn well better have the sway to keep our Order alive," Kir replied dryly, not letting himself rise to the bitterness in that tone. "Considering how badly she's mismanaged the Firestarter situation already, she damn well better listen to me when it comes to our Order's future."

"You knew this was coming then," Colbern said, eyes narrowing, "Did you know, then, about the innocents? About the crimes we were committing?"

Kir could feel his shoulders tense, his eyes tighten, and he said quietly, "I've known we were burning innocents for years. I… suspected since I was an initiate. The stories – Ari and the God King, Vanya Flamesinger, even Silas the Torch-Keeper – none of the supposed witches we burned seemed even remotely like the evils they faced, the wretches they burned. It didn't fit, it didn't make sense. By the time our acolyte years were over," he nodded towards Jaina, who was the only member of his acolyte quartet still living, "I was certain that none of the supposed witches we burned were deserving of that condemnation. But what could I do? Mentioning it to anyone else would simply see me dead, I had no patience for the politics and strategies that might bring actual change in Sunhame, and too much power was wrought from the terror we brought people – the old regime would never have actually changed the definition of a witch, no matter how delicately I breached the issue."

"And you didn't see fit to tell any of your fellow Firestarters?" Seras demanded, Kir snorting at the question and replying, "Would anyone have believed me? There wasn't any solid _proof_, any holy declaration, just my own conscience, my own heart, telling me it was wrong, what we were doing. That these children weren't evil incarnate. So I gave them what mercy I could, learned flames to the point that they'd be dead before any pain hit," Kir shrugged, taking a gulp of tea, before confessing, "But even with that poor mercy I could offer, I sleep no easier for the fourteen dead children that coat my hands in ash."

"Thirty-six," Seras murmured, staring at his hands blankly, clearly seeing something that wasn't quite there, "Thirty-six children, in my forty-odd years of service."

"Twenty-three," Colbern murmured, mug slamming onto the table, "Twenty-three, in thirty years."

Similar recitations followed, anywhere from none – the most recently ordained, only a few moons of service as Kir had guessed – to Jaina's twenty-eight in thirteen years. As the Head of the Order, she'd been responsible for all the burnings in Sunhame as well as the Temple itself, and given the reasoning behind picking a child for the priesthood, there were much higher chances of an initiate being burned than a random child picked off the streets.

"And your Enforcer?" Jaina prompted, looking around Kir at Anur, "Anur Bellamy, correct?"

"Indeed," Anur flashed her a small smile before saying, "And the only burnings I've been involved in have been true witches out of Hardorn, that one _lothga_ situation and the Oathbreaker. So in that respect at least," here his smile turned bitter as he repeated, "In that respect, at the least, I have no innocent blood on my hands."

"You are very fortunate," she said solemnly, lips tightening as she looked at her mug, hands shaking slightly before she tightened her grip.

"An Oathbreaker," Lumira's eyes narrowed, "That was – this past spring, wasn't it? Out by the mountains? We heard rumors, but… the stories were rather outlandish."

"Well, in retrospect," another man, a relatively recent investiture with three years to his name, snorted, waving his hand in an all-encompasing sort of gesture, "Entirely reasonable. No lightning, after all."

Everyone at least let their lips twitch at that while Kir actually chuckled, Anur giving an aggreived sigh and saying, "I'd been hopeful the stories would grow to lightning, that would have been _fantastic_!"

"I'm more interested in this _lothga_ story," Kavrick admitted, leaning forward and looking down the table at them, "Fredric mentioned that new initiate, Rodri, was involved, but kept his name out of reports we kept throwing at the administration – boy didn't need that sort of attention, he said. I assume that questioning him would have dragged your name into it?"

"Anur played bait for it, it had been isolated within a threshold for three days before we arrived to deal with it, so once it was drawn out we were able to burn its core," Kir confirmed, "Rodri was the first to fall to it, and it's my belief his knack for flames rose from that."

"Some of his exercises reminded me of the ones you showed us, before Darius started pestering you and botched that exercise anyway," Jaina shuddered at the memory, "I told him to be careful, but he seemed rather sensible about it. Given, he's only been a Firestarting initiate for a few moons, but he's been working in the forges for a fair while now if reports are accurate."

"He has, I asked Axeli to look out for him," Kir confirmed, "My leaving Sunhame was rather… hasty, so I decided it was best to not have my name linked to his. Particularly given that by that time I'd become acquainted with Solaris and knew that there was some form of unrest coming. Best he remain protected by his youth in that case."

"Who's Darius?" Anur asked idly, swirling the dregs of his tea.

"Remember my warnings about internal temperature adjustment?" Kir replied obliquely, clarifying mentally, _:The one that exploded, like that dummy Griffon tried to warm the first time?:_

"You didn't just make that one up?" Anur raised an eyebrow, Kir returning the gesture and asking dryly, "Why would I make something like that up?"

"I don't know, a warning of some sort? To get people to stop pestering you to warm up their cloaks in the middle of winter?" Anur shrugged, draining the last of his tea with a shudder at the bitter aftertaste, continuing, "You burn their internal organs all the time, but all that happens is that shoot of flame coming out of their mouths – it's not like they literally _explode_, figured if setting their innards on fire wouldn't do it, it wasn't going to work."

"Well I don't know _how_ he did it," Kir rolled his eyes, "As Jaina implied, he took one of my techniques and ideas and then botched it somehow – I can't replicate it, that internal organs bit was actually a result of me trying to reproduce it, but I just can't figure it. I can't get water to flash to steam quite yet, and blood's even more stubborn to manipulate to that extent."

"Is this topic really appropriate right now?" the Second Order across from Anur asked, looking nauseous, "We're _eating_."

"It's not like we're eating sausage or anything bloody," Anur snorted, "And even then, that just makes for good models."

Colbern laughed softly, shaking his head ruefully as he said, "Not just the Enforcer, then. You're with the Sunsguard a lot, the pair of you."

"Of course," Kir replied, startled that it had even been in question, "I'm chaplain of the 62nd Cavalry, have been for near fourteen years – I was assigned there when I left Sunhame and never switched out. I pulled Anur into our forces a few years ago but he was already familiar with them at that point."

Colbern let out a low whistle, nodding slowly and saying, "Makes sense then – well keep in mind, you two, that I'm the only other Firestarter who's ever served as a chaplain, and my term was decades ago, finished out just before the Tedrel Wars."

"Though if we're going to be going against blood mages in Hardorn, that's going to change," Jaina frowned, "Is it going to be full scale war? Or just the incidentals? I assume we won't be doing a preemptive strike of any sort."

"Can't afford it," Anur shook his head, Kir continuing, "But Ancar attacking us is… likely. We won't be officially sent against him as an act of war, because as Anur said, we can't afford that. Not with the reforms that need to be pushed through and the civil unrest that hasn't quite erupted yet."

"People are still too scared," Kavrick snorted, "It'll take some quieter weeks before they get the guts up to actually try something. But even with incidentals, we're going to be dealing with the Guard, so Jaina has a point. This _lothga_, was there enough time for our standard ritual chants?"

"Definitely not," Kir shook his head, "Not if the goal was to have no casualties. And given the situation we walked into with Rodri on the way here – I'd prefer if no one was sent out in the field without at least some ability to defend themselves without flames."

"Rodri? Our initiate? What happened?" Jaina demanded, and Kir grimaced, this wasn't exactly going to encourage them to leave their self-imposed isolation after all.

"He was cornered on the way to the forgemaster he works with," Anur shrugged, downplaying the situation a bit with his tone and description, "Some idiots hurling insults, probably drunk – scared the kid more than anything, people didn't want to get in the middle so they were just milling around when Kir and I cut in on our way to the District. Got there a few moments before the forgemaster came barreling through ready to take a hammer to anyone after the kid, so at least we managed to keep him from bashing any heads in. Wouldn't exactly have been the impression we'd have wanted to leave."

"Speak for yourself," Kir grumbled, fairly certain he was at least half-joking, "I would have been perfectly happy seeing their brains on the ground. Wouldn't have been much to speak of anyway."

Anur snorted and shook his head, swapping out Kir's half-full tea for his empty one. Kir didn't bother grabbing for it, he preferred his own blends. Thankfully he'd brought some, never left home without them, though their packs were still in Solaris' quarters for now.

But even with Anur's softening of the situation, with Kir's black-humored comment, he could see the fight fade from his brethren, their brief hope in a new purpose, in a worthy cause, fading under the weight of the reminder of what they'd done. Of what they were going to be held responsible for doing.

"So they do hate us," Lumira said lowly, shoulders slumping, "Kavrick was right, then. We are being targeted, being blamed when it wasn't just us."

"We're easy targets," the youngest of them murmured, hunching in on himself, "Summoners can just vanish into the woodwork, red-robes have always had less fearsome duties – we're the ones set aside the moment someone sees us."

"And now, even after all these declarations, these changes, it is again our job to burn," Jaina said quietly, "To set fire to the Son of Sun's enemies."

"You won't be forced to," Kir said, resting a hand on her arm, Jaina looking up at him half-heartedly and he continued, wanting to impress upon her, upon all of them, just how sincere he was. "If you truly want to leave those duties behind, you can, all of you. You won't be forced to burn someone. Never again."

"It never was against my will, though," Jaina murmured, a wretched despair in her voice, "I thought I was doing the right thing. I was _honored_ to be head of the Order, to be the first and final line of defense between the faithful and the wicked. All this time I thought I was protecting the faithful, serving the Sunlord in a vital role – and it was a _lie_."

"I think I speak for all of us when I say we had similar thoughts," Colbern said wearily, seeming twice-again his age. Seras grimaced next to him but nodded nevertheless, whispering, "I… ignored any doubts. Only had them later on, when I watched – it was much later, after many years of pride."

Tired agreements, slumping shoulders, fading sparks greeted that statement and Kir watched them slip away again with a furious sort of grief. Distractions were no longer enough, would never have been enough, were simply a stalling mechanism, always – these men and women had been betrayed, betrayed utterly by the system they were raised to, by the people they were brought up to trust. He was the _aberration_, not the rule. And this complete betrayal of _everything_, all the support they had – that this was a duty, it was unpleasant, it was awful, but it _had to be done_ – was wrenched away and it was a more than minor miracle that none of them had burned themselves to ash yet. Even the lowliest of Third Order Firestarters was capable of that.

He looked briefly over at Anur, and the Herald just stared back at him helplessly, not having any more of an idea than him of what exactly could drag them out of this, could bring them some sort of _spark_ back.

Well. He had tried guiding them to the answers themselves. He had tried carefully urging the tinder to light, gently adding kindling and fuel in the hopes it would work. But they were soaked wood, soaked with tears and grief and _apathy_, worst of all, so that wasn't going to work.

Time for a liberal dash of _prodka_ then.

"Is that it then?" he challenged, "Is that all you plan to do? Horror of horrors, we've been lied to our entire lives. We've burned innocent children, listened to their screams of blistering agony and have blood-soaked ash coating our hands and buried deep under our fingernails. That is _never_ going to go away. One year of doubts, five years, a lifetime or none at all that changes _nothing_! That changes _nothing_ of what we have done, what we are responsible for!"

He found himself on his feet, glaring at the stunned faces that were turned towards him, feeling inexplicably_ furious_ now that he'd begun to speak. How dare they give up? They had at least thought they were doing the right thing, had at least had that comfort to cling to all these years. He'd _known_ he was burning innocents and all he'd had to hold to was the fact that he would grant them a mercifully quick death. And they were breaking _now_?

He thought not.

"Where things change is _now_, right now in this _very moment_. Now that we all know, that _everyone_ knows what we've done, the question is what you're going to do about it. From the sounds of it, most of you would be perfectly happy immolating yourselves immediately, some false penance for your very real crimes. But think on this, before you duck out of your responsibilities – you will face the Sunlord then. You will face Him, face those you _burned_ and what will you say? That you gave up? That you did _nothing_ to repent for your actions? To rebuild our Order, to rebuild our _priesthood_ into something that we can be happy to serve, that the Sunlord can be proud of?"

"Cowards!" he cried, slamming his hand against the table, smoke rising from his hand – he really needed to get better about that, this was the second time he'd burned his handprint into wood in the course of an argument – "Unwilling to face reality, to face _consequences_. Leave the rebuilding to those who have no ash on their hands, leave them to face the rage, the fear turned to anger – unjust! Unfair!"

He swept a scathing look across the group before straightening, saying coolly, "Do what you will, but I plan to dedicate the rest of my _life_ to ensuring this _never_ happens again. To restoring our Order to the protectors we were meant to be, not the nightmare fuel we became. And I plan to start with Ancar."

Silence, broken only by breathing, and Kir hardly dared hope that this had somehow gotten through to them – it had to, it _had to_ because he was out of ideas –

"I think," Seras said quietly, looking up from his hands with a rueful sort of smile, "I think I have a few more burnings in me. I owe it to them to make those, at least, count for something."

Jaina rose to her feet next to him, looking up at him with a fierce despair-fueled rage in her eyes as she swore, "I will join you in that, brother. But I will not lead the way."

Ah – right. He'd never exactly gotten around to mentioning the fact Solaris had selected him as the new head of the Firestarting Order. There had been more urgent things to address.

Suddenly, Jaina was leaning back, eyes wide and awestruck before she suddenly knelt, head bowed. Blinking, he looked around at the others only to find they were in the same position, some murmuring prayers. He turned to look at Anur to find that his brother, at least, was being more reasonable and instead was looking at him with an odd sort of smile on his face, chunk of cheese in hand. "Nice robes," he commented.

Looking down, Kir suppressed either a sigh or a yelp – he honestly couldn't figure which reaction he'd managed to hold back. His formerly worn and occasionally threadbare robes of fading red were renewed yet altered, a true crimson again, with edging of black flanked by gold.

"I _liked_ my old robes," he said mournfully, Anur bursting into laughter at that declaration, echoed by another chuckle, unfamiliar and in his mind. Again.

A flare of flame, and a Firecat sat on the table in front of him. Of leaner build than Hansa, this Cat's markings were mottled reds and oranges, giving him the appearance of true flames – if not to the extent Anur's initial impression of a Firecat had been.

"A Firecat?" Jaina whispered, a near childish awe in her tone and the Cat nodded towards her, some private words being exchanged judging by her flickering expressions before something approaching peace descended on her.

_:Please, rise,:_ the Cat said, gaze locking onto Kir while the others slowly regained their feet and Anur's voice entered his mind, comforting in it's familiarity, _:He agrees to Hansa's terms, though reserves the right to communicate directly in an emergency situation. He is Kari, and is here for the entire Order.:_

_:Thank the One God,: _Kir swore, relieved. A Firecat would help immensely – both in reassuring people that the Firestarting Order was back on the true path and in shoring up the Firestarters themselves. He'd managed to drag them into some semblance of functionality with his spontaneous mostly frustration-fueled speech, but any help with that would be greatly appreciated.

_:Firecats are also conveniently fluffy and huggable,: _Anur added, Kir not even asking where that had come from because he was entirely certain that he didn't want to know – not right now when he couldn't give away the fact that Kari wasn't the only one here who could mindspeak.

"An honor, Kari," he said aloud, bowing his head to the Cat, who returned the gesture. _:It is my honor, he says,: _Anur relayed. Hopefully there wouldn't be much call for active dialogue between them or he might have to reconsider his stance on no other voices in his head. This could get tedious.

The Cat stood and leapt off the table, settling on the bench between Kir and Anur, pawing at Anur's leg until he handed him a piece of bread. Kir retook his own seat and everyone followed – except for Anur as he'd never actually left his seat in the first place.

A quick sweep of the group and he knew he needed to wrap this up quickly. They'd been exhausted before, terror and self-loathing and an unwillingness to face their dreams keeping them going, but now that they'd had the chance to sit, to be reassured even slightly that they were not doomed, they were fading fast. "We can deal with the rest later," Kir decided, looking over at them all, "Figuring out arms practice, combative firestarting – even deciding if you want to stay in the Order – it can wait. Get some rest, all of you. We'll start work on the morrow."

Gathering the empty mug Anur had left in front of him, he went to refill the mug with water before heading for the door, Anur meeting him there with a few slices of cheese in hand. Kari had apparently elected to stay behind and was hopefully in the midst of introducing himself to everyone personally. Being individually acknowledged by a Firecat would serve as a balm for their guilt.

They were halfway down the hall when the enormity of what had just happened hit him and he stopped, swaying slightly before reaching out blindly for Anur's shoulder with one hand and bracing himself. "Was wondering when that was going to hit," his friend said wryly, resting a hand between his shoulder blades, "Easy there, Kir. We've managed."

"A Firecat," Kir said numbly, "One for Solaris, almost expected – but for _us_? For Firestarters?"

"What, was that whole there is still evil to burn rant just lip service?" Anur raised an eyebrow, hand shifting to his shoulders and shaking him slightly, "Hey, you said it yourself, Kir. There's still evil to burn, and what better way to show that just because the office of Firestarter was abused, that doesn't mean it's not necessary, than to have a Firecat for the entire Corps?"

"No I – I truly believe that but," Kir let out a shuddering breath, brilliant crimson of his robes catching his eye and he flinched, "It's too much."

"Like hell," Anur said bluntly, finally tugging him into a one-armed embrace, saying quietly, "This is going to be a mess, a ridiculous, awful mess and the Sunlord's seen fit to offer some help – to start your leadership of the Order off on the right foot, so to speak. It's barely even a _beginning_, Kir. You've still got plenty of work to do."

The silence that fell was comfortable, as all their silences had become lately, before Anur broke it with an amused, "You have got to be the only person who'd rather work an extra three years than have to deal with a manifestation of divine favor, really."

"I'm not that bad," Kir grumbled, smiling slightly nonetheless. Anur had hit the nail on the head, of course. It wasn't just that he found miracles and manifestations unnerving – which he did, that probably would never change and _shouldn't_ change to be honest – but he didn't like the idea of options, of _paths_ being taken because they were deemed too difficult or too long. It felt like a short-cut, like he was cheating, taking the easy way out.

He had taken the easy way, the path of least resistance, for years, and it had been wrong. It had been so very, very wrong until that path of least resistance, of minimal flames, had somehow inverted in on itself and turned him into a revolutionary when he spent a peaceful night sharing stories with a Herald.

"Oh you are," Anur laughed, tightening his hold for a moment before releasing him and slipping his hands into his pockets, "But you're getting better – if I hadn't known you so well I wouldn't have noticed that twitch towards the doors when your robes changed."

"All the wear and tear is gone," Kir said ruefully, examining his sleeves again, "It's silly, perhaps, but – I liked those old robes. They were... _mine_, I suppose. A sign of my work."

"It's not silly," Anur retorted, "Your robes are what set you apart, but the wear and tear is what brought you in. They showed something of your history, your willingness and ability to work with the unit, that's not silly. That's _important._ So it's just as well that your old robes aren't gone – take a look at those Kir, all the stains and marks are still there, you're just not used to finding them against a crimson backdrop."

Kir paused and stepped into the sunlight streaming through one of the few plain glass windows, examining his left sleeve in the light and feeling some of his tension leave, ridiculously enough. Because right there, just barely touching the new gold-edging of his old black trim, was the dog-shaped mutli-layered blood stain he'd never been able to get out. As if spotting that had made the others appear from nothing, his eyes were finally able to pick out the few carefully mended tears, the re-sewn hems, the occasional patch. They were harder to see, eye drawn to the brilliant red and gold and black rather than the faint discolorations, but still there.

These were still _his_ in a way he hadn't realized was important to him until he'd thought them gone.

"Uniforms are important," Anur murmured, answering Kir's unspoken sheepishness, "They're symbols, and yours just symbolized a lot more. Now, where are we heading, exactly?"

"I was thinking we'd head for the records hall, see if I can find some texts I squirreled away from the main archives," Kir shrugged, "They might still be there. Then we'll have to figure out quarters – my old ones should be fine, they're a bit smaller than the ones at the 62nd but we're not going to be spending much time there anyway."

"The bigger quarters were only really needed because we had evenings where we'd be doing nothing, and there was nowhere else to go," Anur agreed, "Smaller shouldn't be a problem. What sort of records are kept in your hall? And what all is this Hall for, anyway? That main hall was for what, conclaves? What are those? And why were you called Eldest when they were older than you? And - "

"Anur," Kir interrupted, amused, "One question at a time."

"Right, sorry," Anur laughed sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck as Kir opened the door to the records room, "Let me start again."


	5. Belated Introductions

"So… who was that, exactly?" Henrik, ordained two years ago, asked, breaking the silence that had fallen after their new Incendiary's departure.

Colbern felt his lips twitch, then Seras snorted and they all lost any chance of holding onto composure, the group dissolving into somewhat hysterical laughter as the events of the past not-even-mark caught up with them. Somehow they had gone from tearing themselves apart at the seams to having a new mission, a new Head and a Firecat here for their Order.

And they hadn't even introduced themselves.

"That was – that was Kir Dinesh," Jaina managed to gasp, wiping her eyes with her sleeves, no longer bearing the gold-edged black trim of the Incendiary and the weight on her shoulders seeming all the lighter for that lack. "He is the Eldest First Order Firestarter, and new Incendiary. We were ordained together, but he was the one ordained as a First Order Firestarter, my promotion to First Order was a few moons later."

"Ordained straight into the First Order?" Tristan, ordained alongside Henrik, raised an eyebrow, "That's… extremely impressive. Why have we never heard of him then?"

"He got on the bad side of a summoner Voice by the name of Phyrris," Seras replied, having always been the most concerned with tracking current and former Firestarters to know the fates of each of their fellows. He had come to view it as his responsibility, being the truly _eldest_ of them.

Kavrick choked on his tea, neighboring Second Order, Valerik, gleefully pounding his fellow on the back with possibly excessive force. They'd always had a strange relationship, ever since the first time Kavrick had tripped the younger man on purported accident.

Spluttering as he managed to swallow, he gave Valerik a dirty look before saying, "I've heard of that one – nothing good. From what Fredric said, even the other summoners were rather grateful he was dead. Power-hungry man, wanted to climb the ranks and could care less who he stepped on. Not all that uncommon, really, but he was a particularly nasty breed of it."

"Yes well," Jaina sighed, "Kir never did pick easy enemies. I think that's one of the main reasons Varius recommended him for First Order trials straight away – none of us had any doubt he could pass them, failed prodigy rumors or no, but anything less and he'd be a lot more vulnerable to actual actively pursued death. As it was – I basically forgot about him, he was sent away so quickly, and it was understood he was supposed to die in a convenient accident soon enough."

"That's where I'd heard his name before!" Lumira snapped her fingers, "The failed prodigy! Everyone was so excited about him when he showed up – hells, Varius kept bragging about the boy he'd dragged in and then it all just… died out. Never did anything to really distinguish himself."

"Well if he really did doubt the burn-worthiness of witches ever since he was an initiate, that only makes sense," Colbern shrugged, "Even if he didn't really doubt their burn-worthiness for that long, which I doubt, keeping your head down in Sunhame only makes sense. Particularly if he has a knack for making powerful enemies, like Jaina said."

"Which is really the last thing we need with our position so tenuous," Jaina sighed, hands carding through the Firecat's fur while it curled up on the table in front of her. Colbern raised an eyebrow at her, agreeing in theory but considering just Who had played a hand in naming him Incendiary, he had a feeling things were going to work out reasonably well for their Order.

"You forget that he made powerful friends as well, if he's been working for Her Eminence for so long," Valerik pointed out shrewdly, "Besides that, stories bearing his and his Enforcer's names, if not guesses similar to them, are all over the place, if you care to listen – there were rumors of the Oathbreaker long before we received any sort of report on it. Rumors of a haunt, monster-slayings, a rogue witch-powered… that we need to find another name for – even a fire in the Comb!"

"I forgot you liked to don plainclothes and slip into Sunhame," Lumira snorted, "Well, you'll have an easier time of it now then, there are rumors Her Eminence is going to throw open the gates."

"Oh I hope not," Seras groaned, "Not yet anyway, that's a terrible idea. Especially if people are being mobbed, we won't be so lucky as to have an initiate get cornered and rescued every time, we're not the only ones terrified, just the most vulnerable."

There was a long silence at that, at yet another reminder of the challenges their Order was going to face for the near future. Finally, Colbern sighed and said, "Well there's nothing for it. We're going to have to present this all to Kir on the morrow, because to be perfectly honest the man was right, we could all use some sleep. I recommend dream-tea, everybody. I recommend it highly."

_:I can ensure peaceful dreams for one night, at least,: _the Cat spoke at last and all of them twitched at the voice in their minds. It was… decidedly unnerving, and reassuring, all at the same time.

"Thank you, Honored Kari," Seras murmured, echoes of thanks circling the room. There were a few more awkward, silent moments before Laskaris, another Second Order, recently promoted, shoved back from the table and stalked out, hands locked in the small of his back. The room emptied rather quickly, Kari stretching and padding out after Tristan, leaving the former triumvirate of the Order sitting at the table.

"There's so much I need to discuss with him," Jaina murmured, crossing her arms on the table, "I don't even – I mean honestly, I don't think his Enforcer has the first idea as to proper policy in Sunhame."

"If they were running around killing blood-mages and _lothga_ and conducting investigations for a coup, Sunhame manners would hardly be a priority," Seras said dryly, "I wouldn't worry about it Jaina. That same ignorance you're worried about may very well be exactly what we need – bluntness can be its own weapon."

"It may even keep people from eyeing us too sidelong," Colbern suggested hopefully, knowing it was highly doubtful, even improbable, but couldn't help but hope. Politics – of the honey-coated poison, silken-covered razors variety – had been the mode of operation in Sunhame for… for centuries, at the least. Seras had always been better at it, while he had gone to being a chaplain thinking the Sunsguard would be a haven from that doubled-back political mess, and for a time it had.

For a brief time, a wonderful, if isolated and fear-tinged, time, it had.

Someone who was just as inclined (and, more importantly, entirely _able_) to cut through the dross and set it on fire would be a refreshing change from the norm. Seeing what sort of twists might come from a Firestarter trusted by his Enforcer, trusted by a _Sunsguard_ to the extent those two clearly did, was going to be more than a refreshing change. It promised to be highly entertaining to boot.

"Get some rest, Jaina," he repeated, gentling his tone for the girl his partner's year-mate had trained, that he and Seras had been backing and counseling from the moment she'd donned the gold-edged black trim of the Incendiary. She nodded, exhaustion in every line, before finally shoving back from the table and slowly making her way out.

The door shut behind her, and Seras perked up, "So – to our new leaders? But first – the archives?"

Colbern rolled his eyes at the latter request, but still said, "Naturally."

***===***pagebreak***===***

Kir swept into the records room while Anur pondered what questions he would ask first, watching as Kir looked around the shelves of books with clear fondness. He wouldn't doubt if this was the one place in Sunhame Kir had truly regretted leaving behind. It was an impressive room, perhaps half the size of the formal Hall they'd entered first, and filled with shelves of books. A large central area of chairs arrayed around tables left space for a shielded and screened hearth to not be an immediate threat to the books, while massive windows opposite the hearth provided light without bathing the tomes in damaging sunlight most of the day.

Around the edges he could spot occasional desks with writing implements, and he could almost see groups of young people studying, researching topics or debating methodology – just like any study room in the Collegium. It was strangely comforting.

"Ha! My couch is still here," Kir cheerfully grabbed a small couch with worn blue upholstery and pulled it into the sun, setting his mug of once again steaming tea on the table now next to it and sitting down, kicking his boots off and literally curling up in it. Anur stifled a laugh at how _cat-like_ Kir looked at the moment, curled up in the sun with half-lidded eyes, a barely-there smile on his face.

He felt an almost uncontrollable need to ruffle his hair.

Managing to restrain himself, Anur instead claimed the other half of the seat and pulled his boots off, taking advantage of Kir's odd pose to stretch his legs out a bit, wedging his legs around Kir's and cheerfulling ignoring his friend's grumbles as he was forced to reposition a bit. "Now, for my questions," he said at last, "First, why did they all call you Eldest when most of them were clearly older than you?"

"I'm the First Order Firestarter who's been ordained the longest," Kir replied promptly, Anur nodding as he'd guessed something along those lines.

"All right – so what's this Conclave business then? It sounds like something that would require all Firestarters to be present, if big decisions are made during it," Anur tilted his head back to stare up at the vaulted ceiling thoughtfully, continuing, "And if that's the case, how could they have one without you there?"

"The Conclave – well, it's simply a gathering of Firestarters that decide policy and review incidents over the past year," Kir shrugged, taking a sip of his tea before elaborating, "That occurs every winter, and Firestarters not given a permament posting elsewhere are required to attend. Firestarters with permanent postings are few and far between, for the most part we simply are assigned districts to inspect and patrol for witchcraft. It's a very… liberal order, in a sense. Standard Firestarters are sent out to their districts and have to patrol for a minimum of 10 weeks, after that they are free to do what they like so long as it's within the scope of their duties and they don't step on any toes, politically speaking. From what I remember, for the most part once those 10 weeks are over Firestarters return to Sunhame and – well, lurk, for lack of a better word."

"And it's some sort of Firestarter-only gathering?"

"Usually not enforced because they have servants and initiates bring tea and paper and notes and all manner of things, but in its original form, yes, it was a Firestarter-only gathering. Also, I'm fairly certain they called an emergency Conclave, rather than the usual annual one, since usually the annual report session takes place the week before Midwinter's Day. Emergency Conclaves are exclusive to Firestarters and are extremely rare. Technically speaking, if anyone not a Firestarter enters, it's within our rights to burn them where they stand."

"So needless to say, no one's tried pushing the issue," Anur frowned, looking around at the library and wondering at the sheer size of this Hall – it was a misnomer, this was far more of a compound, a district within a District and he had to wonder at how many other Orders had this – for that matter, how many other Orders were there? He had studied the basics of the Sunpriests, but had never had to deal overmuch with them and even his crash course in Enforcement had run more along the lines of situations they'd been likely to encounter.

Spending the winter in Sunhame had not been one of their focuses.

"What about me then?" he asked finally, "I know where I stand with the Sunsguard – and you mentioned I'm something of an honorary Firestarter once, but with relation to the others here… what can I expect?"

"Well, it's very dependent on my status within the Order," Kir shifted slightly to rest his head against the back of the seat, "If we look simply at the class of Enforcer, you're viewed as something of a… Fourth Order Firestarter, you have authority over the acolytes and initiates no matter what rank your sponsor is. With my being First Order, and remember that you're essentially viewed as an extension of me, you have authority over the entire Order aside from Jaina – technically speaking, again. Since I'm the head of the Order now – you're essentially a First Order Firestarter, as far as authority goes. I wouldn't recommend actually acting on that for a while, we're going to be in a tenuous position, but that's where you stand on paper."

"Ideally I won't be in a situation where that's necessary, but it's something I should know," Anur shrugged uncomfortably, "I'm not exactly the typical Enforcer."

"You couldn't be," Kir snorted, "I'm not the typical Firestarter. Our focus was entirely different than a Sunhame based pair. Hopefully with Colbern around to remind both parties that there's a distinct difference in lifestyle we'll be able to work things out without offending anyone, but if anyone asks about your lack of knowledge just blame me and my dislike of Sunhame. Not like it isn't true."

_:Best not to breathe a word even hinting at your northern origins, even alone,:_ Kir continued mentally, a distantly thoughtful look on his face as he examined the hearth – a clear stalling technique so their silence wouldn't be noticed as out of place. _:And we may have to reassess Aelius' description as a reasonably friendly battlesteed, we're a little too used to having everyone in the area cover for us.:_

_:I can take care of that,:_ Aelius spoke up, having been lurking in the background the whole time. No comments, just a presence – this was quite possibly the most dangerous place in Karse for them right now, and he had a feeling if he thought about it too hard, a panic attack would be almost inevitable. _:Just be ready to cover for me – I now hate certain voices. And Riva might end up hating blondes.:_

_:Um… okay?: _Anur replied, wondering how exactly hating certain voices was going to work into anything but trusting Aelius could handle it.

_:Blondes?: _Kir echoed his dubiousness, but had come to trust Aelius enough that he didn't ask for elaboration either. Probably best they didn't know anyway, their reactions would be more genuine.

"What about this Hall?" Anur finally spoke, letting his own contemplative mask fall away, waving a hand around to indicate the whole building, "It seems… remarkably self-contained. Your own archives, your own assembly room, a kitchen – given, very basic food when you consider _citrus tea_ as comparison, but decently stocked with the essentials – a central courtyard garden area, and that's leaving aside the rest of the building I haven't seen yet! Is this… common? For each Order to have their own place?"

"Not really, no," Kir replied, "The others are all too big for it to be practical. The most basic of divisions is black and red-robe. Originally, black-robes were scholars, lawmakers and such – the governors, once Karse became a true theocracy. The red-robes were the ones who carried out the more classical priestly duties, ministering in parishes, serving as chaplains and healers and the like. After a while the divisions became much less clear, but at the most basic, black-robes are expected to be more knowledgable, to be able to quote Writ and Rule and technicalities, whereas red-robes are considered more… practical. The ones that actually take action."

"But aren't summoners always black-robes?"

"Yes, because initially only black-robes were mages. As a standard rule black-robes have a tendency to draw more mages, simply because so much study is necessary when one is a powerful mage. Now it's symbolic, black-robes can be summoners or scholars, or both, or neither."

"Okay, so we've got our black-robes," Anur waved his left hand, "And our red-robes," waved his right, "And they essentially split the priesthood in half."

"Correct."

"Now you said once that Firestarters are between red and black robes in authority – except you police the entire priesthood – so… how does that work? That seems to imply that red-robes are lower than black-robes on the power-scale."

"No, that's not – we're _between_ because we have practices from both. We're lawmakers, decree-givers, and at the same time we serve an active purpose, have more active roles. We're scholars in addition to having practical obligations and responsibilities. It's not that red and black robes contain a different rank – at least not within the priesthood. Outside, it is entirely possible, even likely, that lay-people consider black-robes more powerful because there's always the chance that a black-robe is a summoner."

"Okay, so between as in a mix, rather than a divider. Makes sense. So then are there subdivisions within each half? Black robe and red robe, I mean? When Loshern introduced himself he said black-robe of the Second Order, I think? Then tacked on circuit judge and summoner as afterthoughts?"

"All right," Kir set his tea aside and shifted so he was sitting up straighter, half tailor-style and hooking an arm around his knee while he gestured, "If I were to introduce myself formally, I would say Kir Dinesh, Incendiary, Chaplain of the 62nd. You list your name, your Order, your rank within the Order, then your particular duties if you have some permanent assignation."

Anur could feel his lips twitching, and he couldn't help but ask, "Incendiary?"

Kir sighed, "That's one of the least ridiculous titles for the Head of the Firestarting Order."

"Doesn't that also mean arsonist?" Anur asked around choked down laughs, but he soon lost that battle at Kir's resigned nod and dissolved into snickers. "Oh, man, I needed that," Anur managed to get himself under control and chuckled again, "Incendiary, wow. Talk about a two-faced title. Right – so then there are ranks within the Orders? And those ranks are called Orders? That's confusing."

"The Firestarting Order is an overall rank as well as subdivision," Kir elaborated, "So we have Black-robes, Red-robes, and Firestarters, essentially. Ranks are referred to as Orders, First, Second or Third, depending on length of service, abilities within your particular field, exemplary duties, or being good at political games. A variety of things, really. You'll note that no one says Firestarter Order, you say you are part of the Firestarting Order – technically speaking someone could be part of the Firestarting Order without being a full Firestarter. That's where you're at, actually. You're part of the Firestarting Order, but you're not a full member of the Firestarter Corps, you're an associate."

"…You don't happen to have any flow-charts with this, do you?"

"Sorry, no."

"Ugh. Simpler question – does anyone else have a Hall compound district thing like this? Is there a Summoner's Hall, a Healer's corridor, a Circuit Judge residence? An Exorcist lounge?"

"Nothing so formal. There are areas which are understood to be mostly occupied by one or the other group – except for the exorcist one, I don't think there's any sort of regular 'spot' for them, in the rare incidences there's more than a few active," Kir shrugged, "Firestarters are unique in that respect."

"Is that because you – oh what was it you said – predate the theocracy? And the Son of Sun, I think you mentioned?" Anur wondered at that; he'd looked into the Valdemaran records regarding Karse and found mentions of the Son of Sun and the theocratic government of Karse from their very first encounter – some bare century and change after the Founding. That made for near a millennia of theocratic rule, and if that were the case, where did Ari's story fit in? Clearly further back – there were no stories of crazily powerful Sorcerers in Valdemar's legends that he recalled, but how far? Was it far enough to truly predate the theocracy?

"How far back do your records go?" he finally asked, somewhat awestruck as he started truly considering the implications. If he held the gist of Ari's story as true, which he did, something in it struck chords, resonated within him from the first time he heard it – it was _true_, at its core, probable elaborations and fancying up with the Karsite equivalent of Bardic license aside – then take in Kir's claim of their Order predating the theocracy and the implications were _ridiculous_. They had records that barely predated the founding – hazards of being founded by refugees, he supposed – but nothing further back. The idea of having that much history, that much _knowledge_, recorded away – well. He would have to introduce Kir to Myste when this whole thing went through. He had a feeling the two would get on like a house Kir didn't like on fire.

"There are no written records of Ari's life from his day that survive here," Kir replied, "There are written oral histories, from some time later, but nothing from that era itself. The earliest written Writs predate the proposed dates of Ari and Witach's encounter, as the very first of recordings have little mention of abusing magical power – afterwards, there's a distinct shift in tone towards mages, one of being held accountable and being content with what the Sunlord grants. But there aren't any writings aside from Writs that have been preserved for that long. And to be honest, I don't know if even they still survive – the copies of copies that I read were… in jeapordy. Hopefully someone has managed to hide them away from various political purges but it's something of a miracle we still have records that old after all this."

Correction; Kir and Myste would get along like fire and a blood-mage facing Kir.

Really well, in a way that would send most people running for the hills.

"As for predating the theocracy," Kir shrugged, "That is confirmed. Firestarters were simply part of the Priesthood, fulfilling everyday duties for the most part until reports came in of a _witach_ terrorizing people or signs of blood-magic or a priest gone power-mad. Then they'd don their black-edged robes and ride out. It didn't become a full-time job until the theocracy started some centuries later, and even then it was only a few that were Firestarters and nothing else. It wasn't until… oh, six, seven hundred years ago that Firestarters were pulled from normal duties and made full-time witch hunters. Based on the timing alone, it can be somewhat assumed that it was in response to the attempted assassination of the Son of Sun by a blood-mage."

"Huh," Anur frowned, "Are you going to try and return the Order to that? A part-time job, of sorts?"

"I think it would work out better that way," Kir sighed, "But that will have to wait until we have something of a cohesive Order to work with."

"Valid. All right then, how about a tour of your cataloging system? If we're going to be spending time here, I might as well explore these ridiculously ancient records of yours – and where are your Firestarting manuals? Griff would love to hear about them. And then a tour of this Hall we're living in might be in order."

Kir was entirely at ease here in this room of books with no one to act for, so he might as well prolong their stay here as much as he could. The fact that it would provide more information to stall a vengeful Herald-Chronicler with was entirely incidental.


	6. Plans

There hadn't been an Enforcer-Firestarter pair in more than a century, and Seras would know as he'd become something of the Firestarter scholar after riding for days on end to conduct patrols became less and less feasible. He could manage a week of hard riding but his bones would hate him thoroughly afterwards, meaning wherever he got too with that week of riding was going to have to wait a few days for him to be functional again.

So his ten-week patrol took more along the lines of twenty, and once he returned to Sunhame, he didn't leave. Let the younger ones go out when emergencies called, check on the Feasts of the Children, rotate through the longer-distance patrols. He'd take advantage of seniority and call the shortest route, in the district closest to Sunhame. Spending his days in the District, complaining about old bones with those few elder priests that would gripe with him, and splitting his time between restoring texts in the Firestarter records and teaching those District-bound acolytes and initiates was far more agreeable than riding in rain, sleet and sun.

Colbern was just under a decade younger than him, but had managed to age much better and still thought racing all over the country was a fine way to spend his days, whatever the weather. Just last year he'd finally spent more than twelve weeks in Sunhame, bitterly complaining that his joints didn't respond well to riding through freezing rainstorms.

Seras had no sympathy for his friend, none at all.

Especially when he refused to remember anything besides the barest of details about their Order's history, making him answer questions the man _should_ know the answer to –

"So how long has it been since there was an instated Enforcer?"

Case in point.

"Over a century," Seras replied promptly, nevertheless – if he didn't, Colbern would just start taunting him about how he didn't know the answer and refuse to believe that he did.

Seras fully realized he was just falling into the man's trap with that, but his pride as a scholar was at stake here!

"And the circumstances around that selection were… entirely political," Seras snorted, "Some noble son, wanted authority without becoming a priest and somehow fell in with a Firestarter whilst in the Sunsguard – it was all on paper, I honestly don't recall if the two ever even came to Sunhame together."

"Not what the office was designed for," Colbern said, a weary sort of sorrow in his voice. That very sentiment could be applied to far too many positions within the priesthood, and had been applied long before Solaris ever came about.

"Not in the least," he echoed, letting Colbern open the door to the archives and following him through. He hoped to find records of the more recent changes in Firestarter policy and formalities, recorded in a charter that had expanded from its original page and some to a hefty text over the millennia. With any luck, it would give them somewhere to start, at the least. Give some sense of order to the massive undertaking the entirety of Karse was going to be entering soon enough.

It seemed, though, that he wasn't the first to have that idea.

"_On Hallucinogens and the Unquiet Dead_? Well doesn't _that_ sound familiar," the Enforcer's voice carried through the stacks, their new leader's barked laughed echoing back with a sardonic, "Please, I told you – we do not _drug_ our congregations, merely terrify them into compliance. Besides, that text is utterly useless, the man sought to commune with the dead through extensive use of hallucinogens and his writing style clearly reflects it."

"…Did you read this entire library?"

"I made a valiant effort."

"_Sending Spirits to Rest: A Monograph_, _Crafting Bonds of Spirit and Soul, On Vows and their Forging…_ hey, would that have anything on what exactly an Oathbreaker rite does?"

"It would discuss what was meant by Oathbreaker in greater detail, and explain how he was harmed by our calling him Oathbreaker, but it won't have anything on the hunting rite – I assume that's what you're after?"

"I was curious about that… buzzing, for lack of a better word, that kicked in after the Hunt – I mean, it was there before, a bit, but that was when it really picked up. Also the whole riding day and night without tiring and without even really realizing it, I still don't clearly remember what happened those few days."

"I don't remember details, but who needs them?" a wry chuckle, Seras finally rounding a shelf and spotting their new, even younger leader. Faint traces of white in his hair aside, he was showing no true signs of aging and if Seras remembered even vaguely right, he had been at least two or three years younger than Jaina, who had already been one of their youngest recorded Incendiaries.

Brilliant crimson robes – a subtle miracle, one almost more impressive for its subtleness – were flung over the back of a chair, leaving Dinesh in what looked to be decent quality Sunsguard scouting armor. Seras was willing to admit he had little to no expertise on that, so would be asking Colbern for his assessments later, but the fact that he even bothered to wear armor – that he had been permitted within the District while bearing steel! – was something to take definite note of.

Pale grey eyes looked up from the texts he was skimming, white archivist's gloves on his hands, and some of the man's ease fled, effortless posture stiffening, faint amusement falling away and leaving bland attentiveness behind.

"Brothers," he said, inclining his head shortly, "Seras and Colbern, Second Order, if I am not mistaken?"

"You are not," Seras replied, returning the nod, "My apologies for disturbing you, but I simply sought to consult the Charter so we might have a starting point for policy reforms."

Any response – by that expression, by that tension, an equally formal and politely disinterested one – was interrupted by the Enforcer coming around with a stack of books in his arms, saying, "Kir, if you keep _acting_ like this the entire time we're in Sunhame, you're going to hate this city all the more."

The twist on the word acting, the glance they exchanged, spoke to an undercurrent of communication that Seras and Colbern were missing. The fact that such a communication was even _possible_ spoke volumes as to their actual relationship with one another. He fairly _itched_ to get his hands on some of the old histories and examine the tales of Enforcers; maybe he'd even manage to unearth those rare journals again, being hidden in the stacks as they were.

The impact of that unspoken message was clear to see, their new leader losing some of his tension and allowing a wry smile to cross his face as he nodded towards his Enforcer, before turning to them and waving his hand to the seats across from him, "Join me, if you would. I will not keep you if you simply want to obtain your text and leave, but if you are truly disinclined to rest, I could use some information. My times in these stacks were far too long ago."

By the time they settled in the seats indicated, the Enforcer was leaning against the back of Dinesh's chair, to all appearances just peering over his shoulder at the book he was examining. Seras, however, while not as knowledgable about physical violence as Colbern, could see very clearly what would happen if either of them tried to eliminate their Order's new leader.

And that was without taking into account the fact the last person blocking the way of Solaris' regime changes had been struck by lightning.

He doubted either of them truly anticipated an attack here, but to act as if they did was entirely understandable and even a commendable example of caution.

"As far as the Charter goes," Dinesh was saying, still skimming his book and glancing up only occasionally, "I was honestly planning to simply find the oldest recorded version and start with it, working our way forward as things came up again. With a basic code to abide by, we can start dealing with more complex cases as they come – assuming, of course, that everyone is willing to abide by that basic code and the logical extensions of it."

"Do you two anticipate any problems with that?" the Enforcer asked – Bellamy, he recalled. A strange name, though Anur was normal enough, he supposed.

"With people following the reforms?" Colbern asked cautiously, glancing between the two. He apparently didn't quite know how to deal with the Enforcer, and Seras was fairly certain it had entirely to do with his unfamiliarity with exactly where an Enforcer stood on a ranking scale. He honestly didn't know if Colbern's proclivity for protocol predated his involvement with the Sunsguard, but he would guess that at least some of that preference for rigid ranks had prompted his request for a chaplain posting.

"Anur speaks for me," Dinesh said absently, gloved finger tracing a line of fading ink, "If you were to be truly technical, as I am Incediary he stands at a similar rank to Jaina."

Interesting that he had answered Colbern's confusion, rather than the question itself, at least at first.

"As for the actual question," he continued with a wry smile, "The one we're most concerned about is the announcement of the witch-powered's innocence. The Firestarting Order and the priesthood as a whole derived a lot of power from that practice – is there anyone you suspect may find it hard to remember the new ruling? If we are to be sent out, I can't afford to send someone out that may very well try to fall back on old habits. It will just end in deaths."

He was careful to step around the issue of just who would be dying, but none of them had any doubt that it wouldn't be the witch-powered.

"I don't – " Colbern paused, lips narrowing and he continued frankly, "I can't make any assessment like that. It's too – the issue is too new. If I were to give you names now, what would your response be?"

"I'd pay a bit more attention to their reactions as we discuss our Order's future, maybe spend a bit more time ensuring that they were heard, any questions they had answered," Dinesh replied, finally looking up from his book and turning the whole of his attention to them. As much as Seras felt his own age, knew Colbern was feeling his years, something in this new Incendiary's gaze made him feel a bare stripling again.

There was an old ache there, an old guilt. Any doubt he may have held about Dinesh's claim to have near always doubted the witch-powers' condemnation died at the healed-over and scarred guilt-stricken grief he could find there.

"We're too few for immediate eliminations to be feasible," the younger man said tiredly, holding his hands out in an expansive gesture, "There are _eleven_ of us, with, what, a bare few acolytes and Rodri? None ready to serve before another year is out, otherwise they would have been promoted by now. And we're going to be dealing with a witach fueled war, along with our own internal messes? If I know who may view Solaris with suspicion, may not agree with her reforms – I can hammer it down their throats along with the _consequences_ for making those doubts public before sending them to deal with Ancar. I wouldn't want to put someone with extensive doubts or even full on disdain within reach of those they can no longer call prey."

"You think it is coming that soon?" Colbern asked.

"I hope not," Dinesh sighed, slumping slightly, "I genuinely hope not, but we can't count on that. We _need_ Firestarters at the border by the spring equinox; they may not be needed for another year but at the least they need to _be _there. Just in case."

"It will also get them out of reach of any troubles," the Enforcer spoke up, gaze sympathetic as he looked up from his Firestarter, "You already know you'll be targeted by those who are bitter at what the priesthood has done – giving you a duty out where it's known you're in danger – not how much danger, just danger – against an enemy no one can claim is innocent, is in some way under Solaris' new decrees – that will give you a measure of safety. Of _usefulness_ that may at the very least give some of those that would bother you pause."

"And will give those of us who may tend towards the self-immolation path something to focus on," Seras pointed out, grimacing because he _knew_ there were some who were already wavering towards that path. These, though, he felt no compunctions about naming.

"Jaina," he sighed, continuing, "Jaina is one of those who is leaning that direction. She always took the burnings within the District hard, very hard – she viewed it as a necessary duty, an honor, but never _liked_ it – and to know it was all unnecessary? No, she is – she is not taking it well. Henrik and Tristan watched a dorm-mate burn when they were initiates, but that was well before they even came to the attention of the Firestarting Order so I'm not sure that they'll be so attached to that memory. Laskaris and Fabron are the other two I'd watch for that, if only because Laskaris is so bloody quiet that half the time I forget he's there. Fabron is new, no burnings, but… he's a very dramatic person, and very young."

"Young enough that his entire existence was defined by the priesthood, and it's been shaken severely," the Incendiary understood what he was getting at and grimaced, "He'll either recover easiest or lose the way entirely. Fantastic."

_:I cannot speak for their states of mind, not entirely, but for now we will need to focus on keeping them busy,:_ Kari appeared in a flash of flame and Seras was interested to note (after his heart-rate slowed down) that neither Dinesh nor Bellamy flinched at the mental voice – or at the flames so close to their pile of precious books!

"Keeping them busy will only work for so long," Dinesh retorted, clearly speaking from experience, "I would prefer to give them tasks to focus on that keep us somewhat isolated for a few days, at least until they are a little steadier – it will also allow them to counsel one another, I won't be trusted enough to serve as confidant for all, if any, of them."

The Cat gave a rolling sort of shrug, _:You have more experience than I with that sort of thing. But in the meantime, I've obtained the compendium of the Charters – it was in the main library.:_

A tap of his paw on the table and a leather-bound tome, clearly old, appeared in a curl of fire. Seras flinched – the paper! – but the Enforcer's reaction went the other way, a gleam of excitement appearing in his eyes as he said, "Kir - !"

"No, Anur, I can't do that," the Incendiary cut him off, rolling his eyes even as he picked up the book with a nod of thanks to Kari.

"But - !"

"Just because it involves fire doesn't mean I can do it," Dinesh snorted, running his fingers across the text's bindings before opening it to the first pages. If Seras remembered right, the first pages were a recounting of Ari's story, mentioning that it had first been an oral tale, recorded at long last some centuries after its occurrence. Then there was a brief explanation of the Order as it stood when the Charter text was started, before a copy of the first written Charter was finally put in – one side containing the original ancient Karsite, the other containing old Karsite that, at the time of the writing, was the modern translation.

"That all seems simple enough," the Enforcer mused, now truly reading the pages over his Firestarter's head – apparently he could read archaic Karsite. Something else to be laid at their Incendiary's feet, Seras suspected.

"Yes, the first few were very simple, straightforward," Dinesh grimaced, "Then it somehow became policy to rewrite the Charter with each new Incendiary and they started growing until we get to today's."

He flipped to the back of the book and found the current Charter – of much greater length than their initial page or two. "The rewriting due to Jaina's promotion," he explained, holding the chunk of pages carefully, before he chuckled, "I don't think I've ever actually read that one."

"Why bother starting?" the Enforcer stared at the book askance, "If you're going to scrap it all anyway."

"The initial Charter didn't take into account a lot of things that we're going to face as a matter of course – it's going to work as a basis, but I'm going to have to go through this latest one just to see where we stand as far as changes to be made," the man sighed heavily, before eyeing the two of them and asking, "When this was rewritten, was there a full Conclave held on it, or was it more of a restating with different words due to custom?"

"The latter," Colbern grumbled, "Utter waste of time and paper if you ask me."

"It's going to be a lot to get through – and it might serve as a good way to go over the reforms and their implications in depth," their superior mused, looking up from his contemplation of the Charter compendium again and saying, "We'll be devoting at least a mark per day just to going through the Charter and redesigning it – the first Charter to start with, then we'll work on the latest one and paring it down."

"As a full group? And do you want the acolytes involved?"

"Acolytes and Rodri, both," Dinesh nodded, "They are the future of our Order, we can't very well leave them out. Were they bid for or did they display a preference?"

"Rodri was simply claimed," Colbern replied, Seras working through mental calculations as to how many days it would take to get through a reconstructed Charter if they stuck to the mark per day schedule. Depending on length of discussion, it could be a years' long process – they'd have to develop a rough guideline quickly for practicality purposes, a fully reworked and pared down Charter could wait.

Perhaps he could craft a text on that? Reconstructing their Order would be a book-worthy enterprise, and it would give him something to do that would be uniquely _his_ – and give him plenty of opportunities to conduct research without riding around like a crazy young person to set real witches on fire.

"There are two acolytes at the moment, only recently taken from the initiates; one was bid for, the other works with Seras – mostly a scholar, to be honest," Colbern shrugged, "We have some of the older records, after all. I think that was the appeal for him."

"There is nothing wrong with having a Firestarter scholar," Seras said defensively, he had fought very hard to have Etrius brought in as a Firestarter and to be frank it had probably only been the fact that Jaina viewed him as something of an elder uncle that had gotten the boy in. He had very little talent or patience for flames, seeing them as distractions from his true work – preserving history and knowledge.

"Nothing wrong at all," the Incendiary agreed, interrupting what had promised to be a rehash of an argument he and Colbern had been having off and on for years now, "So long as he is willing to at least learn the basics necessary to qualify for Third Order trials."

"He knows that is necessary," Seras snapped, "And he is _fully_ capable he simply doesn't see the need to rush things!"

His mind caught up with his mouth at that point and he paled, realizing who he'd snapped at only to be relieved at the younger mens' amused expressions. "I understand," Dinesh said, "To be perfectly frank, having someone fully devoted to preserving our archives sounds like a fantastic idea. There is knowledge here that I think people have forgotten – old stories previous regimes would rather no one know existed. Having someone to protect that would be invaluable."

"However, I will need to meet with both acolytes and Rodri to explain the new direction the Order is going to be going in, as it is possible they may no longer wish to be a part of the Order – and, as they have given no vows, it is more than possible for them to switch now," he continued seriously, focusing on Seras as he said, "I understand that your scholar acolyte will probably want to stay, but I will still want to speak with him, without you present."

"I understand," Seras said stiffly, and he did, truly, but that didn't mean he wasn't going to be somewhat offended by the whole issue for a while. It was too touchy a topic, and one that was easier for him to dwell on than the current matter of the witch-powered.

"Will there be trouble with asking Rodri?" Colbern raised an eyebrow, "You are the one who was involved in his awakening, after all."

"If you wish, you can sit in on the discussion and let me know if you think the matter needs to be pursued," the Incendiary allowed, but the implication that it wouldn't be necessary was clear. Colbern would still probably take him up on it – if only because Seras would pester him into it so he could keep an eye on Etrius.

"Will that be taken care of tomorrow as well?" Seras asked finally, "Also, is the Conclave concluded?"

"I am not going to enforce Conclave penalties, but I see no need to force people out into the District either," Dinesh replied with a shrug, "Personally I will not be remaining within the Hall at all times, but I see no need for anyone else to leave if they don't want to."

"Very well," Seras nodded, tiredness from the past few days finally catching up with him and not helped at all by the odd signals he was getting from their new leader. He needed space – space and time to think. "In that case, I will see you tomorrow, Your Incandescence, Lieutenant-Enforcer," he bowed slightly as he got to his feet before departing, Colbern echoing his farewells and following.

Before they exited the archives, they heard the Enforcer cackle, "Your _Incandescence_?"

"Oh shut up, Anur."

***===***pagebreak***===***

Kir rolled his eyes at Anur's laughter, the Enforcer draping himself over the back of his chair and wheezing helplessly. He was fully aware that the title, amongst others, was ridiculous, but that didn't mean Anur had to lose all composure over it!

A chuckle escaped his own lips though, so he didn't have much of a leg to stand on. Shaking his head ruefully he shut the Charter compendium after marking the page with one of his half-finished knotwork projects. Who knew that having a stash of those lurking in his pockets for moments when he didn't have anything to do would come in handy?

"Come on Anur, let's get this tour out of the way, I assume, Kari, since you are here, everyone is at least somewhat settled and if not sleeping, resting?" he spoke directly to the Cat and there was no need for Anur to relay a response – his nod was enough.

"Leave the books out?"

"Might as well," Kir sighed, removing the archivist's gloves he'd found, "We'll be coming back to go through them again soon enough."

Standing, he grabbed his robes and pulled them on, absentmindedly tucking them around his blades so he could access his long-knives without getting them snagged. A habit that yet again marked him as different from his fellow Firestarters, though in this, at least, he might be joined by other chaplains.

Not that he could be truly counted as one of _them_ either. But he had Anur and the 62nd now, and that was more than enough.

"The Firestarter Hall is fairly simple in layout," Kir began, leading the way out the northern doors to the library – on the other side from the ones they'd entered through. "The front is the Hall itself, and is something of a gateway; traditionally speaking, non-Firestarters aren't allowed past that Hall without express invitation of a full Firestarter and preferably at least the knowledge and approval of the Incendiary. Not exactly enforced, but that's the tradition."

"When you say non-Firestarters, are you referring to full priests or all members of the Order? Like Enforcers and acolytes and such?" Anur asked, letting Kari pass into the hall first.

"The latter," Kir replied, shutting the door behind them and waving his hand towards the southern wall of the corridor they'd entered, occasional windows revealing the inner courtyard and garden. "Inner courtyard and garden – across the way is the kitchen we were in, you can see its windows right there. Mostly herbs and the like, a few decorative plants but not many. Basic meditation garden, with the clear area in the middle used for fire-based training, at least the beginning exercises."

"No water features?" Anur frowned, examining the garden before his expression cleared, "Never mind, I see the pump now. Right. And there's a second floor?"

"Correct – the front hall and the archives take up two stories in themselves, while the halls connecting them have two separate levels. The upper levels aren't accessible from the front hall, the stairs are in the middle of the connecting corridors – along the inner wall of the archives there's a narrow passage connecting to the two sides, but nothing like that along the front. It would block the windows."

"I'm assuming the second level has living quarters?" Anur raised an eyebrow, "Just guessing, understand."

"Good guess," Kir snorted, inclining his head towards the stairs and quickly ascending, Anur on his heels and Kari still tagging along behind, to all appearances looking around with just as much interest as Anur.

"The first level along the northern side contains storage rooms, a laundry, and a small lounge-office area meant for small group discussions or something along those lines – doubles as a classroom, when there's actually enough acolytes or initiates to justify it. We'll probably be there tomorrow to meet with the acolytes and Rodri. Along the southern side there's the kitchen, storage associated with that and a small chapel for when the full Hall isn't really necessary – meaning most of the time. Depending on demand, a few of the residences would be converted to storage or offices or things along those lines – at capacity, there's room for twenty-four of us – more if we doubled up in rooms."

"Wow," Anur blinked, "Has there ever been that many?"

"I don't think so," Kir smiled ruefully, "And when the Order was at its peak, it was a part-time position, so most of the Corps' members didn't actually live within the Hall. With eleven of us, we'll be rattling around for the most part – well, twelve, I suppose, counting you."

"So do the acolytes not live here then?" Anur asked, Kir counting doors back towards the archives until he hit the room he'd used during the cumulative few moons he'd actually lived within the Hall. He hesitated to open it – it may have been assigned since he'd last been here after all – but Anur spoke up again, saying, "Kari says it's unoccupied."

"Thank you," he said to both, opening the door and looking around with a bemused curiosity. It seemed much smaller now.

"And no," he continued, answering Anur's question, "There are acolyte dormitories, along with initiate dorms – they stay there. Depending on the response of the rest of the priesthood, that may change. It's not like we don't have the room here."

Anur gave an absent hum to indicate he'd been listening, already poking around the room and checking the furniture. Kir followed his example, idly wondering when the desk had been re-sanded and just why that scorch mark on the wall had never been taken care of. Small, pointless things really. Distractions, at best.

"Huh – private bathing room," Anur commented, opening the room's other door and Kir chuckled, "Not quite, another room on the other side has access – two rooms share one privy."

"Well then, I'll lay claim to that one and it'll basically boil down to the same thing," Anur replied cheerfully, shutting the door before pausing and looking over at Kir with an odd hesitance, "I mean – I could stay over there too, really…"

Kir shook his head, leaning against the desk and saying wryly, "At this point, I think separating would do more harm than good. I certainly wouldn't sleep soundly. Besides, why mess up two rooms when it's not necessary?"

It had become a habit, a soothing reminder of how things had changed, to wake up from nightmares, to jolt awake from some half-remembered horror, and just listen to his brother breathe. If occasionally he woke near the midnight hour to find Anur was no longer sprawled in sleep, but lay near motionless in some moody contemplation, then it simply meant that companionship flowed both ways. He didn't doubt that before this stay in Sunhame was through, they'd find they needed that sort of mute reassurance.

If he were being truly honest, he doubted he'd ever be able to truly rest without Anur at his side anymore. He'd spend the entire time fretting about what idiocy he was getting up to now.

They'd done it occasionally over these years, and the silence was always deafening.

Anur settled against the desk next to him and they stared at the far wall, shoulders pressed together. "So," Anur finally murmured, "Here we are. In Sunhame."

"Here we are," Kir echoed, exhaling slowly. It seemed much more permanent, more of a trap, now that there was a place for them to sleep. Ridiculous, perhaps, but there it was.

"Shall we get our bags from Solaris' rooms?"

"Yes, let's."

* * *

><p><strong>AN: **World-building - such fun! Hope the priesthood structure works for you, had a heck of a time figuring it out and trying to slot it in with ML's explanations. Thankfully, most of the references were lay-people until we hit Karal, and then the focus was more on post-Solaris structure and even then only briefly. Let me know either way, please!

Now more importantly, I've finally finished my survey of the anthology stories featuring Karse and have determined that the following stories are going to be/have already been treated as canon, full-stop:

"A Brand from the Burning" by Rosemary Edghill and Rebecca Fox, published in No True Way  
>"Vkandis' Own" by Ben Ohlander, published in Sword of Ice<br>"Sun in Glory" by Mercedes Lackey, published in Sun in Glory

The other stories concerning Karse within the anthologies are probably going to be treated as canon with the exception of Ohlander's "Strength and Honor" published in Crossroads (timeline troubles, things from the story will be recrafted so they work because idea is good/interesting, but clearly written before ML had a solid grasp on how Solaris came to power) (or knew previous Son of Sun's name – in that story, he's Laskaris)


End file.
